tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39186928648897200642019-01-18T04:56:59.558-06:00aura joonAurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.comBlogger122125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-44316838833632796812013-02-25T09:39:00.003-06:002013-02-25T09:41:59.212-06:00New adventures. There is not enough time or thank you's to sit down and give the response that all of these comments deserve. Friends, I am so thankful for the little community that seems to have gathered here. It is humbling to know that it is all from my photographs, and words. <p>I wanted to check in and let you all know that I have finally stopped making excuses and dived into my career in photography. It is a new adventure for me, and it is scary and exciting at the same time. I wanted to leave a link here, to let you know that I have started a photo blog on my website: <p><A href="http://aurastuemky.com/blog/">http://aurastuemky.com/blog/</a><p>If you would like to still follow along, I will be there. I haven't decided which direction that blog will grow. For now, I am comfortable leaving it less personal, without photos of Elodie, but I know that over time it will grow and change into whatever I need it to be. <p>Thank you for everything. Thank you, thank you, a million thank you's. <p> All my best, AuraAurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-11956784703486384962012-03-29T00:16:00.007-05:002012-03-29T11:33:50.658-05:00Learning to swim.<img src=http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7254/6880726774_54c2328d12_o.jpg><br /><br /><br />It is the 29th of March, 2012. <br /><br />Somehow it is both expected and hard to believe that one year ago, today, Elodie was born. Pink, screaming, child full of will and opinion. <br /><br />In these life-changing moments, we begin to think, change...lay down the stepping stones that eventually lead to the growing paths we take in life. Ones that lead us to who we are, and will become. <br />I did not know that day, that my Spring morning would become the biggest stepping stone I would leap to. Still, it did, and after 12 hours of labor, with my baby on my chest, I realized that this might just be the most important thing I had ever done. <br /><br />Born from a family of story-tellers, there was something different about this story. And for the few short months after she was born, I started to realize that telling our story here was not what felt right. Just minutes away from Elodie felt like stolen time, and so, I did the only thing I knew how to do so well when life changed paths - I jumped ship. <br /><br /><br />240 messages (I read every one), and months later, I found questions I did and did not have answers for. Little bits and pieces I would read before work, at night before bed....words that would leave me wondering what I was holding out for, anyway. Maybe, I thought, there would be this moment in time where it would be right to come back here and pick up where I left off. But as more time went on, the more I realized that my time <i>here</i> is over. Maybe this was just another piece of my story, but not one that needed to be completed to fulfill a message. Maybe I'm not right at all. Maybe, maybe, maybe I will never know anything at all.<br /><br /><br />Then I read, that sometimes when you jump ship, you learn to swim.<br /><br /><br />This has been a hard year. One full of challenges, sleepless nights (hello, my baby did not sleep through the night for the first time until she was 8 months old) tears and frustration. Empty checking accounts, baby bodily fluids in my hair, and times when we thought we just couldn't handle one more minute of screaming. <br />Instead of learning to swim, I have never sunk to the bottom and drowned so quickly in my entire life. When I thought I might just get my head above water for one second, the reality of our new life was enough to pull me back under again. <br />The depression, not recognizing myself, and Lord, that screaming, screaming child full of will and opinion. <br /><br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7135/6880726910_0d2f6dc366_o.jpg><br /><center><br />Nobody said it was easy. Nobody had the heart to say it would be this hard.<br /></center><br /><br /><br /><br />And still.....still. I would do it over a thousand times for just one more moment in that first second I looked into her eyes, and just knew her. Screaming baby, sweet, precious child who means the entire world to me. She has taught me patience, unconditional love, and more about myself than I ever bargained for. Bad things, ugly things....things I pushed down so deep that I thought for sure nothing would be able to pull them up again. And here they are, on the surface, weighing me down like an anchor, but lifting my body weightless until it floats to the surface and over and over again I learn - that the opposite of learning to swim is learning to drown. And for her, I choose to swim. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7206/7026827923_c0fc4a630f_o.jpg><br /><br />For 12 months I have been present in every moment of Elodie's life. I put this blog aside because I wanted to learn what it was like to never worry what anyone else was thinking of us. In our pajamas in the middle of the day, sitting in a messy house. At the park, with our real smiles. Nobody there to capture it or see it...just little flashes to save for her, one day. For us, one day, when the little rolls of her legs begin to fade and her tiny feet grow to fit into little lady shoes. This is not a place for pictures of us in pretty clothes doing pretty things, eating pretty food. It was a place to share, open up, and hopefully give something to whoever was needing it. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7198/6880726618_4d3289cbea_o.jpg><br /><br /><br />I came here to say hello, goodbye again, thank you, and to let you know, friends, that today, the 29th of March, is the day my little baby girl finished one entire year of her life. What a sweet ride it has been. For every time I thought I would surely drown, there came a moment to once again fill my lungs with air and find the strength to swim again. That is a sweet, sweet kind of love. One that asks no questions, one that does not define boundaries. It just <i><b>is</i></b>. <br /><br /><br /><center><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/39418334" width="600" height="381" frameborder="0" webkitAllowFullScreen mozallowfullscreen allowFullScreen></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Happy, happy, happiest birthday, to my little baby girl, and to me.</center>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com242tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-2170879227246922322011-09-25T11:20:00.002-05:002011-09-25T13:42:53.142-05:00Jump Ship.<img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6178/6181794355_b908d0ec0c_o.jpg><br /><br />One time, my Mother told me that from the time she was a little girl, she always recognized fault in other people around her, and swore to change those wrongs in herself. <br /><br />From an initial stand-point, the statement came across as cynical, and self-indulgent. I think sometimes my Mother can come across this way...a product of living half of her life in another country and coming here at almost 30 years old and learning a language that does not translate as clear and honest as Farsi. <br /><br /><br />The reality is, that all of us possess faults and wrong-doings, we are just not willing to admit to them. The real self-indulgence comes from a human being who can not admit that since we are indeed <i>all</i> humans, we all harbor the same abilities to be negative, jealous, insecure, angry, spiteful. They are our traits, and we are all composed of different degrees of these characteristics, mixed with a sweet balance of love and happiness, contentment, confidence, and empathy. <br /><br /><br />To see fault in others around us is to see fault in ourselves. I am beginning to understand that I can very quickly understand and point out what it is that I don't like in opposing behavior, only because I know I am capable of that behavior myself. <br />We see jealousy because we've felt it. We feel anger because we've lived it. And instead of being kind and dismissing these errors in the people around us, we hold them responsible for things we have done and said ourselves. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6178/6181793931_b98fdd9c2d_o.jpg><br /><br />So. To see fault in other people and change that in ourselves does not seem to come across so superior when we understand that <i>being the change we wish to see in the world</i> is actually quite humble and selfless. Especially when approached with patience for those around us who have not quite come to these points of realization in themselves. We do not all think alike, and we all arrive at life's milestones at different paces, jumping from one stepping stone to the next and sometimes falling flat in the process. <br /><br /><br />The land of blogs and twitter and pinterest are places where some people spend hours searching for inspiration, direction, and a pretty picture of what they want their life to be. But they are also places of dishonesty, self-denial, and jealousy. There are so many voices out there, that sometimes it becomes difficult to hear your own over the loud hum of ten thousand photos telling you what you are supposed to wear and eat and think. An open invitation to compare yourself and fall short. It is overwhelming, and over the last few months I have had to question where my own voice was heading with this outside influence.<br /><br /><br /><br />I began to see the things I did not like in other people, and in turn, I began to see those things in myself. <br />To keep an online blog is quite difficult. For ten+ years I have somehow taken part in some sort of social media. The livejournals, myspaces, facebooks, blogs, and pinterests. Every few years, usually when life changes in a different direction, it becomes almost unbearable to look at my past on display. As human beings, we all grow and change, do and say things we are not proud of, and hopefully learn and move on. When you put your life out there on the internet - it sits there and stares you in the face. The internet is written in ink, and if this were the journal I had permanently written - then I would have to say that maybe, my worst flaw as a human being is my absolute predictability to <b>jump ship</b> and disappear when life changes course.<br /><br /><br /><br />Is that such a bad thing, to spread your wings and fly from an expected path? Or is the true blame within our societies obsession with sharing too much? <br />I still don't know the answer to that, but what I do know is, like many other times in my life where I have needed to step back and look at where I was going, my answers are quite clear from an objective stand-point. <br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6178/6181794129_2f3dcca930_o.jpg><br /><br />Friends, I will tell you that life lived when not a single person is looking is quite different than this online world. Things move a lot slower, quieter, and more simply. Days are longer, we speak softer, and somehow all those lost minutes of the day come together to form an extra hour or two to focus on the things that really matter. <br /><br />For some people, this is not the life they are looking for. It's okay, we are all different, headed down different paths. But for me, it feels almost liberating to know what it feels like to live like no one is looking. <br /><br /><br /><br />This is me seeing fault in others, and myself. This is me changing.<br />For now, this is me jumping ship.Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com243tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-38248606803213238522011-08-04T21:00:00.017-05:002011-09-03T05:21:58.855-05:00Hello, and Goodbye (wasting time).<img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6010/6010563776_47b2221840_o.jpg>
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<br />This weekend, my parents offered to take baby E for her first overnight away from home.
<br />Michael was thrilled.
<br />I was sick.
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<br />We made plans for Friday night, our first "date night" alone since March.
<br />We decided to go for dinner, and a night at Reggaefest.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6148/6010010989_5a90160cb6_o.jpg>
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<br />The first time I ever heard of Pho, was from <A href="http://bairdillustration.blogspot.com/">my friend Erin.</a>
<br />I was 21 years old, fresh off a 3 year vegetarianism, and we were sitting in the “lunch room” of our hair school. Surrounded by girls 15 pounds skinnier, 6 inches taller, and a whole lot more booby, who ate nothing but crackers and spray butter. It was odd, and to this day almost 8 years later, we still talk about hair school spray butter girls.
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<br />And we ate together. We were our own little lunch table. I had a flower in my hair, she was angsty, and somehow it worked.
<br />Erin is the brownest white person I know. And along with a keen sense of the Spanish language, good taste in hip hop, and an affinity for Asian food, she also always thinks she is right.
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<br />So when she plopped down next to me one day with a piping hot bowl of Pho, she demanded that my wrinkled, up-turned nose was wrong.
<br />I mean come ON….it’s raw meat with hot water poured on top, then you eat it?!
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<br /><A href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ph%E1%BB%9F">(Take a listen to the pronunciation. It’s not what you think.)</a>
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<br />After my pretentious bought with Vegetarianism, I was unable to see the food world as anything but black and white, and moderation had not quite come to me yet, seeing as how I hadn’t had much life experience at 21.
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<br />When Michael suggested Pho Friday night, I had a funny memory of 19-year-old Erin, sitting next to me in the spray butter lunch room of hair school.
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<br /><i>”If I had a Pho restaurant, I would call it ‘What the Pho.’”</i>
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<br />I laughed out loud, 7 years after she said that, alone in my thoughts.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6016/6010011219_1431c8e4c1_o.jpg>
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<br />We drove to the Asian district, and I visited more old memories.
<br />Along the way, I thought of my own childhood, and then I thought of Elodie. I wondered if my Mom was getting her ready for bed.
<br />When I was a little girl, all of us, Grandma & Grandpa, my parents, and my Sister would drive to the Asian district and shop. We bought our rice in wholesale amounts, and were thankful that another nearby culture ate rice in the same quantities that we did.
<br />My Sister and I would drag our feet through the aisles...I have a vivid memory of a fish laying on a bed of ice…moving.
<br />A tiny little girl, I gasped and jumped back…..only to lean in close and wait to see it one more time.
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<br />When we got older and my Sister was a preteen, she would scream at my parents <i>“I’m not going in there! I don’t want to smell like fish!”</i>
<br />She very well might have stomped her feet, afterward.
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<br />A tiny shadow of my big sister, I would add “Yeah! Me neither.”
<br />We would listen to music in the car, she’d ignore me because I was 8 and annoying, and I would stare out the window, daydreaming about the moving fish on ice.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6136/6010011971_98bdd0a1f5_o.jpg>
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<br />As my husband and I pull into the Asian District of Oklahoma City 20 years later, I am flooded with warm memories. The bustle, sounds, the smells.
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<br />Friday night we went to Pho Lien Hoa. It is located on the edge of the Asian District, but still close enough to the new, up and coming hipster-areas of Oklahoma City for someone who isn’t feeling terribly adventurous.
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<br />This time, I was not such a snob. In the 7 years since I decided being a vegetarian wasn’t for me, I learned what moderation meant. To eat what tastes good, and always, always try something once. Even if it means that you are the minority. This approach to food also became an approach to life.
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<br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2008/2249629282_25fcc1b4b3_b.jpg width=800>
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<br /><i>{our last night out, January 2008}</i>
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<br />My best friend of 15 years moved to Austin almost 4 years ago, and on the last night she was home, I shoe-polished "Austin or Bust" on her back windshield.
<br />We always make time to visit a couple times a year. She lives downtown, right on 6th Street, so we spend a majority of the time walking everywhere we go and enjoying the city for what it is. But sometimes, like our trip in January, when I was 7 months pregnant and not feeling the hipster-vibe of the city, we decided to try something new.
<br />Her boyfriend was born and raised in Austin, and knows little spots to venture to when the thin mustaches, food trucks, and plaid get to be repetitive and stale. Do we really need to stand around and judge what <i>every one </i> else is wearing and listening to?
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<br />Nothing you wear is quite cool enough for some spots in ATX, and one night we just begged him to take us anywhere that we could get sushi, still wearing our pajamas.
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<br />We packed up Petey and drove 15 minutes on the freeway from her condo on 6th Street. Away from the bustle of Downtown, and to a place tucked into an older strip mall. The sign glowed only, “sushi” against the quieter, slower parts of the city.
<br />When we walked in, it was like we fell through the center of the Earth and into another world where we were the minority. The chef nodded to our host, and sent him plates of food, all night.
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<br />“<i>Do you come here a lot, or something?”</i>
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<br />I’ve been convincing my friend that finally, she has found her Great “one.”
<br />The one who doesn’t want to take her places where everyone around her is worried about what everyone else looks like.
<br />Instead he takes her to this upside down world where they are strangers in a sea of faces not worried about anything but the sushi. One neon, glowing light in the dark Texas sky.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6013/6010011387_a555c92194_o.jpg>
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<br />We walked into the restaurant Friday night, and sat down.
<br />It is the kind of place that has a Vietnamese breakdown of cow parts, and 90% Asian customers. I loved it, instantly.
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<br />Before I can look over the menu, our appetizer ($2.25!) is in front of us. Two spring rolls, wrapped in shrimp.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6140/6010560772_b2c72b4a22_o.jpg>
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<br />The sauce is incredible. I consider licking the bowl, but decide against it. I look around and just as I suspected, no one is looking at anything but their Pho. I settle for licking my chopsticks.
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<br />Our plates are whisked away and I start to take photos of the meticulously clean, and shiny table. No fingerprints.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6150/6010010925_d8457f3366_o.jpg>
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<br />Before I can adjust my settings for the bright back light behind me, our Pho is plopped down in front of us. We can’t get a thank you in, and wonder what part of the wait staff speaks conversational English, anyway. There were a lot of rehearsed “okay, thank you, you order, refill's?”
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<br />It’s beautiful. The smell, the hot steam on my face, and the fresh, green aroma are heaven. There is a large plate of limes, jalapenos, fresh basil and mint still attached to the stems, and cabbage.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6124/6010561126_94e44d94b7_o.jpg>
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<br />A buffet of everything I love? This is bliss, and I’m never leaving.
<br />In my head, I’m thanking Erin, and laughing at <i>what the pho.</i>
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6020/6010561346_b29fc1f9d4_o.jpg>
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<br />Our food is dressed, mixed, and ready to eat. The steaming hot broth is cooking the thin slices of meat, and softening the greens to just the right amount to release their flavors and add a bit of bite to the meal. The yin/yang of the meat and herbs is a perfect combination. I'm suddenly so glad I'm not a vegetarian anymore.
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<br />The rest of our conversation is put on hold. The only thing going on is the two of us, faces 5 inches above our bowls, managing to spit out <i>”this is amazing”</i> between bites (read: shoveling).
<br />As we slow down, we talk about Elodie. It has been 3 hours away from her, and so far, neither of us (me) has died. He tells me he misses her, and I’m not quite so sure I can make it much longer, when all I want to be doing is cuddling with the three of us on the couch, eating our Pho to go.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6023/6010561572_d17485d0c6_o.jpg>
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<br />When it was all said and done, I had done the most damage. I poked at my husband and made him take a photo of shame – a bowl still one thirds full of broth. To give him credit, the bowl was massive. And we got the smalls.
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<br />We left with full bellies and a burning, spicy kick in our mouths. Pure bliss.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6128/6010012541_e3d60ca5eb_o.jpg>
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<br />We headed to Bricktown, where I always love to stop and photograph the old buildings. I love the weathered, aged words painted across the brick.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6020/6010561908_787bfbf54c_o.jpg>
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<br />When we got there, we walked around the Bricktown Canal and met up with friends at Reggaefest.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6017/6010012653_b8edb80daf_o.jpg>
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<br />I think of another trip to Austin, just a long girls weekend. Long, long before I was even dreaming of the responsibility and change that comes with being a Mother. We went to Reggaefest and I danced all weekend barefoot in the mud, lost my point and shoot camera and somehow didn’t care, and got soaked in the rain. And we danced, danced, danced. That was the old me, and as more and more months pass and baby E becomes a part of our family, it seems like those careless weekends are a light year away.
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<br />On Friday night, we sat and listened to the first band. When night fell and the sky went dark, I couldn’t stop thinking about the old me. So I downed my margarita, took my husband to the stage, and we danced to a Bob Marley cover band.
<br />That night, there were fireworks in Bricktown at the baseball game a block away.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6133/6010560244_345e03219e_o.jpg>
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<br />And I felt like the old me, again.
<br />I wasn’t quite busting out the glowing hula hoop, dancing in my bikini top and rubbing people. Ahh, to grow older and learn moderation.
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<br />Around midnight we caved and drove to my parents to pick up Elodie. Sleepy, holding her blanket, Michael picked her up and kissed her, and we drove her home. I melted.
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<br />Before I had a baby, I worried that one day, I would look at myself in the mirror and not recognize the person staring back. After I had her, I realized that it had happened, whether I liked it or not.
<br />Somehow, all those conversations from parents that end in “but they’re so worth it…” started to make sense.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6127/6010563918_51252dc7d2_o.jpg>
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<br />I spent the rest of the weekend away from tv, internet, and my phone, building Elodie her little reading nook. I had made the first half of the canopy when I was pregnant, and finally finished it.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6029/6010562958_680656c8a3_o.jpg>
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<br />Now her room is done. A tiny sanctuary where she loves to lay and look around. Filled with bright, Oklahoma light, I point to each bit and piece of her room and tell her <i>khetob eh Elodie, tacht eh Elodie, pangereh eh Elodie……book, bed, window, this belongs to you. </i>
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<br />It seems that I tend to get a lot of things done when I take steps away from wasting time. When I spend hours online, sleep in too late, and put efforts into meaningless relationships. I knew that the old me was hiding in there, somewhere.
<br />This weekend I remembered who the old me <i>was</i>. One night of forbidden spicy foods, dancing, and us talking about our freaking baby like one of <b>those</b> parents all. night. long.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6001/6010014729_6ed7b791aa_o.jpg>
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<br />The truth is, that I miss the old me. The late nights, dancing….being care free.
<br />But somewhere along the way, something inside of me changed.
<br />All those smug parents were right, and we absolutely turned into one.
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<br /><b>She’s worth it.</b>
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6133/6010014673_10a8a6ce18_o.jpg>
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<br />It is through that realization, that I find I am not saying goodbye to the old me, but rather, hello, to the new one.
<br />I guess sometimes (but not all those times, thank you moderation), I would rather be playing with colored blocks.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6133/6010013863_81edec69e4_o.jpg>
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<br />Creating a space where she will learn, grown, and feel inspired.
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<br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6144/6010012875_e9130dceea_o.jpg>
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<br />And watching my husband read a bedtime story to our baby girl at night.
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<br />My friend Amy sent me a letter (yes, in the mail, we write letters like old women!) a few days ago. She has been feeling all these things, at the same time. Her baby E was born a few weeks before Elodie, and in her letter she writes <i>"I remember back in college when you and I would write those long, confessional-style letters to each other. That was forever ago, wasn't it?"</i>
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<br /><img src=http://farm1.static.flickr.com/114/268301911_ea506fa78b_b.jpg width=800>
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<br />{Amy, on a kayaking trip we took together in 2006}
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<br />It was. What changed? How can we be those girls and balance these babies at the same time, again?
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<br />Do you ever get sick of people around you always worrying so much about how everything looks? It's like the life inside those moments itself, is missing.
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<br />To feel bits and pieces of that doesn't feel good to me.
<br />The more I do this, the more I realize that unfortunately, a lot of this "business" is about a whole lot of posing, photo shopping, and living life....to talk about it.
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<br />At some point over this weekend, I questioned this space, and why I still do this. There is 100% of my life waiting for me, and the time I give it is broken up into things that don't matter.
<br />Spending 30 minutes reading 30 different blogs. 20 minutes looking at pictures of someone on Facebook (read: creeping) that I don't even know, 30 minutes looking at clothes online.
<br />What am I even doing? In 1.5 hours I built baby E her first little fort. It felt good. Not mindless. Not life lived from one same spot on the corner of the same couch, looking at the same websites. Over. and Over.
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<br />This feels like one of those times in life where you need a break. Ever have one of those, friends?
<br />To take the time to learn about this new obstacle ahead of you - a stage - and how we will add this to one more adventure that this wild ride has in store for us.
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<br />As we change and adjust to these stepping stones and ultimately choose how we will react to them, we will go forward in life, growing or staying the same.
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<br />Wishing these minutes away would be wrong. Because if our days fly by? Well then I guess life would just be entirely too short, overall.
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<br />Looking for the next best, and biggest thing in life is a waste of your days. You're constantly waiting for your next big trip and adventure, and in reality, you miss the small ones we travel on every day.
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<br />No matter what, this world is still spinning, spinning, spinning. And if we don't hurry to get on, it will leave without us.
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<br />See you in a few weeks, friends.
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<br />PS, I left a little note on my blog 'break' in the comments. Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com131tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-12880640391437659562011-07-29T18:22:00.002-05:002011-07-29T18:28:08.093-05:00Happy (hot) Weekend.<img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6130/5988601831_93c838a55b_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6014/5989162564_7a82363a13_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6149/5988601661_3e9094447b_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6143/5988601529_b41dd1d4d1_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6148/5989162796_061c80b94e_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6011/5988602165_2896d5af2c_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6140/5988602693_2fa1f417b9_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6016/5989162952_97e117e33a_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6020/5988602961_886d511ae8_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6150/5988602839_ab9049619f_o.jpg><br /><br />We had some relief and the temperatures dropped to the low 100's, but next week we're looking at 109, again. I think this might just be the weekend that I take your advice, and get a kiddie pool for us to splash in. <br /><br /><br />Happy Weekend, friends. <br />Any fun plans?Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com55tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-9465473045459406522011-07-25T22:04:00.007-05:002011-07-25T22:26:47.378-05:00the Swallowtail.<img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6134/5976718736_0bbe30623c_o.jpg><br /><br />Every Summer, the Swallowtail caterpillar plows through entire harvests of dill. I have not one year seen my Mom and Grandma's gardens escape their presence. <br /><br />This year, I planted an unusually large amount of herbs, and my patch of dill was a large portion of my herb garden. Within a few weeks of the time I planted my seeds, my garden was full of them.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6006/5976155523_b71cb90a3b_o.jpg><br /><br />They would grow fat with bellies full of dill, then one day disappear. A few days later tiny baby swallowtail caterpillars would be in their place...sometimes as many as 15.<br /><br /><br />Michael's little brother spent a good amount of the Summer with us, and one night, Michael and him devised a plan only two 16 year old boys could come up with. $20 would be paid to his brother if he ate one of my caterpillars.<br /><br /><i>"Why not? It's $20."</i><br /><br />I tried everything. I begged, lied, told him they were acidic and warned him against the foul odor they spray when predators come around. That last part wasn't a lie...but I did tell him that they taste like bile and sour dill.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6131/5976718086_aebbcf9be9_o.jpg><br /><br />They probably do.<br /><br /><br />The reason I finally gave him was the one I gave Michael when he told me to get rid of them, and how they were pests to my garden. <br />One day, they will wake up and not be these little dill-destroying creatures. They will be worth more than $20.<br /><br /><br /><br />The evening before his brother left to go back home, I was outside, picking the last of my herbs for the season. Trapped inside the tomato and strawberry cage was a little something I called him outside to see. <br /> <br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6135/5976717736_d924e69eae_o.jpg><br /><br />It was one of our little swallowtail caterpillars, all grown up. <br /><br />To see this transformation happen within two weeks is breath taking. And I knew there was a reason why this year, I planted enough dill for the two of us. <br /><br />This is the Black Swallowtail...our Oklahoma State Butterfly. It's a huge part of what I saw growing up here, and to me...that is worth more than all the $20 bills in the world.<br /><br /><br /><center><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/26897693?title=0&amp;byline=0&amp;portrait=0" width="600" height="500" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/26897693">Swallowtail - The Oklahoma butterfly</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2810534">Aura</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br /></center><br /><i>song is "Ripe" - Givers.</i><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br />Thanks for the weather encouragement and teething tips, friends. Last night, a few hours after I posted, we got our rain.Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-32055278322305430962011-07-24T18:33:00.008-05:002011-07-24T19:55:40.394-05:00The long, hot days of an Oklahoma Summer.<img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6005/5971440638_ca21f4564c_b.jpg><br /><br />This Summer has been abnormally hot, even for our scorching Oklahoma Summers. When June came around, our temperatures reached the 100's and have stayed that way. There seems to be no end in sight, and every week we watch the weather, disappointed by another 7 days of triple digit temperatures and no rain in sight. We are in the middle of a severe drought, and the days seem to drag on with no relief. <br />At any given time, the weather here seems to be an indicator that the world is ending, when in reality, it is just a typical Oklahoma weather pattern. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6002/5972475514_78539433ff_o.gif><br /><br />Even our watering holes prove no relief, only feeling like a disappointing tepid bath. One that makes your skin almost feel worse than it did before.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6134/5971439556_f596d3d096_b.jpg><br /><br />We are all suffering from severe cabin fever, and feeling the need to spread our wings and be part of the outside world again. Days are spent trapped inside our house with the air conditioner on constantly, barely clothed, and sweating. Sweet Elodie seems to be taking it the worst. She loves nothing more than being outside - I adore that first moment when I take her out and she sighs, blinks her eyes, and takes in all the smells, sounds, and happy bits of nature. But these days she is stuck inside with the rest of us, and also teething. She cries, cries, cries...chews on frozen pacifiers and her little fingers. I want desperately to let her feel the wind on her skin and through her hair....I miss it, too. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6007/5970885415_5a9182f456_b.jpg><br /><br />We keep her busy the best we can, but there is only so much you can do with a (almost) 4 month old that just wants to sit in the hammock and swing, listening to the birds. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6149/5970888187_77a5b7bb04_b.jpg><br /><br />I try to rattle toys at her, but everything seems to make her cry. I make her promises of Fall, and how we will hike, go for walks, and lay in the hammock until she falls asleep and drifts off to another place. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6005/5970886145_cdc6c8bd8d_b.jpg><br /><br />The time inside has been a nice break to spend with family, and rest. But as the days go by and I see more and more of her personality come through, I realize how much of the two of us is inside her tiny body. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6002/5970885095_c411c7e48c_b.jpg><br /><br />She is a whole mess of bored & sensitive, and a combination of her screams and this heat have been making my head very heavy. <br /><br />We still have 2 more full months of hot weather, and for now I have to focus on the day to day. Looking ahead, it seems like a lifetime away before I can open the windows and let the stale out of this home that feels like a prison. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6001/5970885907_73db59bf8d_b.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6129/5971445512_3a8e04539c_b.jpg><br /><br />When she is in bed and my world is quiet again, I grab the monitor and sneak outside to unwind. The evening is the only time of day that is somewhat bearable, although the upper 90's are not much of a relief from this overbearing weight of Summer.<br />I take photos, pull weeds, and sadly look over a garden that stood no chance against the kind of Summer we had this year. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6017/5971912819_afe85ee93b_o.gif><br /><br />In late July, a Summer Breeze in Oklahoma is nothing like the ones that cool us to our bones in Spring. Now they feel heavy, thick, like a brick across your face. It feels like opening an oven, and being met with a wall of heat.<br /><br />My herbs have long ago dried up, and what I didn't save to dry myself for the cooler months, I let go to seed. I have been outside in these hot evenings, picking them to prepare for gardening season, next Spring. <br /> <br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6126/5971446220_661c17a903_b.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6123/5970890911_04ecb80fce_b.jpg width=800><br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6021/5970891357_9746e10495_b.jpg><br /><br />The way you feel after spending a couple hours outside in this weather can only be truly understood if you have spent a Summer here, in the middle of arid Oklahoma.<br />After a period of time, it almost feels like death. Your body is only brought back to reality by the beads of sweat that slowly trickle down your back, reminding you that you are still alive. Everything slows down, and even your senses are completely numb. Things seem to move slower, the world is drowsier, your heart beats quieter. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6022/5970883997_61095bb1ef_b.jpg><br /><br />Across the state, people are losing their lives, and our wildlife is completely threatened by this drought. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6026/5971440302_86d4e900d4_b.jpg><br /><br />In a literal sense, everything is just cooking. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6028/5971439366_ac7fd228ca_b.jpg><br /><br />Every couple weeks, clouds will fill the sky and everyone is praying to their God that it will finally rain. But we are met with no response from anyone or thing upstairs, and the tiny drops that barely cover the tallest leaves quickly evaporate. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6024/5971443418_644559de1c_b.jpg><br /><br />The only things thriving are the sunflowers. My wildflower garden has dried up, but the sunflowers seem to be loving this heat. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6029/5971444860_ae4350ab82_b.jpg><br /><br />Their faces are an absolute joy, a mirror image of the hot sun that is causing all of this trouble. But still they make me happy, to know that something is still able to live through this.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6134/5971442194_e9f39cbd21_b.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6146/5970888565_21f7c029e7_b.jpg><br /><br />I've been clipping them and bringing them inside, my tiny bits of the outdoors inside of this air-conditioned-prison.<br />I've also been bringing inside handfuls of tomatoes from the garden...they are the only other remaining things that have survived. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6008/5970886719_111bf69270_b.jpg><br /><br />But as of last week, this spider has made it's home in the middle of my three tomato plants, and I doubt that I will be in the middle of her web, picking my fruit any longer. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br />How challenging it really is... to stay optimistic and alive when everything around you is dying. <br />In these moments - the end of our icy Winters and the long, hot days of an Oklahoma Summer - it is a daily struggle and fight to put on a smile and face a world that is doing everything it can to break you down. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6140/5971442856_885484a9e1_b.jpg><br /><br />In these weak moments I think of sweet Elodie. Tiny, teething, sensitive, and innocent. Her first Summer has been a challenging one....and I wish that I could make it all better for her. For myself. But in real life, things don't work that way.<br /><br />So today, and tomorrow, and for as long as that 7 day forecast spells 106 + no precipitation, I will smile and teach Elodie that sometimes we cannot control what goes on around us. The hand we are dealt may not be the best, but it's the only one we have. <br />In our home we are dreaming of the brisk days of Fall, open windows, and new life. Long walks, bike rides, and patio nights. Throwing more wood on the chiminea fire, swinging in the hammock, and a barren weight of Summer '11 to be lifted from our weary shoulders.<br /><br />We will take it one day at a time, and one day we will wake up and these dreams will be today. Until then, all we can do is wait.Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com68tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-75355831095966816102011-07-18T13:06:00.006-05:002011-07-19T01:27:51.146-05:00to Be near you - (round three of the Styleathon)<img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6125/5951000127_5d732044e9_b.jpg><br /><br />When people speak from their hearts, before our minds have had a chance to reason, the voice is loud...clear, and a statement of initial chemistry. Fireworks. <br />I like to write from this place, and have a hard time putting guidelines or limitations on the things that come to mind. This is true inspiration, wild thoughts racing through your head, flashing images so quick you can barely write them down fast enough.<br /><br />The truth is, that I found this Styleathon a bit difficult and outside my norm. The fashion aspect of it was completely foreign to me. I had such a hard time actually putting conscience effort into what I needed to be wearing. Normally, it’s whatever is clean (and sometimes not clean) and comfortable. Posing for the photos was even more taxing, and I found myself to be very unnatural and uncomfortable. Michael even accused me of taking too big of steps as I was walking :) An obvious sign that I was putting too much thought into how everything looked (and trying not to trip in the process).<br /><br />But like everything else that we come across in life that makes us step outside of our comfort zone, I did learn a thing or two.<br />Throughout this project, I have been worried about what the people that come here would think. <br />I know a majority of my friends are not typical Fashionistas. Lots of yoga pants and flowy skirts around these parts. There’s not a lot of my $12, knit Target skirts, flip flops, and denim cut offs on any runways. I don’t read any fashion magazines, and tend to be super lazy when it comes to actually getting ready. This was a reminder that we have a tendency to worry about our appearance entirely too much. Women have a habit of being overly critical of themselves, and others. Sometimes I think our preoccupation with having the perfect hair, makeup, and clothes comes from the assumption that other women will be judging us. In reality, we are so much harder on ourselves than anyone else…our own worst critics. The last couple months have been full of gentle reminders to be confident and kind, and to appreciate myself for who I really am. To capture the <i>real</i> moments with Elodie, as they were happening. Even if they were simple, and not so glamorous in the process. My careful observer, I love that she watches the world through her curious eyes and learns through me being myself, that she will one day be herself, as well. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6008/5951555408_fd286c4116_b.jpg><br /><br />Wearing Elodie has become an absolute joy and freedom I was searching for, and finding the words to describe that came naturally to me.<br /><br />With this Styleathon also came a lot of new readers to the blog (we are over 100,000 visitors a month) and also, some unwanted negativity.<br />It’s not too much of a surprise, because in life, you will always come across people that dislike you. I don’t have an issue accepting criticism from others, but I do have an issue accepting criticism from people who have not bothered to read what I have to say.<br />I have no space, room, desire, or patience for adults with child-like behavior, and those comments will be deleted and not given second thought. <br /><br />I’ve said it a thousand times, but apparently words can fall short on deaf ears, closed minds, and covered eyes. <br /><br /><i>Be kind.</i><br />And if not? Then it’s your loss, not mine. <br /><br />Be you, and speak you. <br />The ones that matter, don’t mind. And those who mind? <br /><i>They don’t matter at all. </i><br /><br />Finally, I wanted to say how interesting it was to see the stark contrast in personality between the other Mothers and myself. We are all <i>so</i> different, and there is something strikingly apparent about that. I think that after this entire thing, I came out understanding that even more. We are all unique…individual components that make us up into our own true self. Designer high heels, flip flops. Coffee or tea breaks, walks to the park and strolls through a museum. We are women, Mothers, friends, sisters…not competition. We live in our own corners of this world and all see it through different eyes. And the most important thing? <br /><br />To love our beautiful little babies with everything inside of us.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6139/5951555696_71f77a90f8_b.jpg><br /><br /><b>Thank you</b> to Leigh from <A href="http://marvelouskiddo.blogspot.com/">Marvelous Kiddo,</a> for thinking of me and bringing me along for the ride.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.lillap.com/New-Arrivals">Lilla P,</a> for showing me what a nice skirt looks and feels like, compared to my $12 one from Target :) Your clothes are both beautiful and versatile for a trip down the runway or a trip to the garden store. I have to admit that it took all of 3 weeks before I got a stain on it, though. Either dry breast milk, hair color, or mystery fluid. I haven’t decided which it is, yet.<br /><br /><a href="http://selimaoptique.com/products">Selima Optique</a>- I have never in my life owned a pair of sunglasses that cost more than $18. Hence why the big, cheap, plastic clunkers always made me so hot and sweaty that I ended up not wearing them. Who would have thought that it was easier to be outside and slave over my garden in 110 degree weather if I had spent a few extra dollars on a nice pair :)<br /><br /><A href="http://www.marlacielo.com/">Marla Cielo</a> – Her work is so unique. I wanted to cry when I found out that she specifically chose a piece for us based off of our personalities. There is something so wild and romantic, flattering and heart-warming to know that someone can read who you are as a person. For me, she chose her "Purple Heart" bag. <br />I can’t wait to pass this onto Elodie someday and have a little piece of who I am stained onto the threads. <br /><br />And <b><i>Thank you</i></b> to <a href="http://www.sakurabloom.com/">Sakura Bloom</a> for allowing me to be a part of this. For keeping Elodie close to my heart, just like she was for 39 and a half weeks. To <i>be near me,</i> just like she is supposed to be.<br /><center><br /><br /><A href="http://marvelouskiddo.blogspot.com/2011/07/sakura-bloom-styleathon-reader-giveaway.html">Round Three of the Styleathon</a> Freestyle Video.<br />After a <a href="http://aurajoon.blogspot.com/2010/09/our-summer-adventures-and-surprise.html">Summer of Adventure,</a> we knew we would want to spend this one close to home. We can’t wait to <a href="http://aurajoon.blogspot.com/2011/05/life-lately-making-room-for-elodie.html">show Elodie the world,</a> and it was in fact the first time she would ever get to experience an Oklahoma summertime. <br />Gardening, Mini road trips to our watering holes, fireflies, Arts Festivals, Summer thunderstorms in the Midwest, concerts in the park, fireworks, and lazy days in the hammock. These are the simple joys of life that we wanted to include her in. Wearing Elodie, I am able to bring her up to my eyes and tell her and show her all the little things she will one day learn to love herself. The things that will make her who she is. <br /><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/26583618?title=0&amp;byline=0&amp;portrait=0" width="600" height="500" frameborder="0"></iframe><br /><br /> <br /><b>to Be near you.</b><br /><br /></center><br /><p><p><br />*<b>song is <i>"Noche Nada"</i> - Givers.</b>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com132tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-58791273436831586222011-07-08T18:19:00.004-05:002011-07-08T18:46:08.384-05:00Goodbye, little friend.<img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6136/5916507353_23e1f0ac20_o.jpg><br /><br />When I was a little girl, I used to form unhealthy attachments to inanimate objects. I would hold tight to the memory of where it came from, who had gifted it, or how long it had been in my life. My <i>things</i> became tiny friends...whispered stories in my room at night. <br /><br />Not a lot has changed, and these days I still fill our house with little reminders of all these memory-soaked corners of my mind. Piles of rocks and shells, cards, textiles, and book ends. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6140/5916506751_0775652afa_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6028/5916507079_4eb6f36fd4_o.jpg><br /><br />In the Summer of 2009, Michael and I went on a road trip to Colorado to camp and hike. Somewhere along the 12 hour drive, I cut two pieces of an old fabric I'd had for years, and stitched them into a little bracelet. When I put it on, I had no idea how long it would actually be there. <br /><br /><br />To be exact, the bracelet lived to be 2 years old. And after that day that I put it on my wrist, I never took it off again. Until today. Underneath it is one pale stripe around my wrist, a memory in itself of all the Summer adventures that my little friend lived through. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6027/5916506437_c62502e616_o.jpg><br /><br />Like one barefoot, muddy girls-only weekend in Austin with my best friend. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6145/5916506543_623b2fb24c_o.jpg><br /><br />The little bracelet got a little bit more bleached in the sun & salt.... <br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6127/5917065922_d4b78f836a_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6134/5916505855_2e49c7511d_o.jpg><br /><br />and Florida wetlands.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6127/5916507557_f709ee3fe6_o.jpg><br /><br />Cliff-diving over Summer weekends....<br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6014/5916504941_5255653f4e_o.jpg><br /><br />...and little road trips along the way.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6028/5916506047_a004d44bfd_o.jpg><br /><br />And one year later, it traveled back to Colorado. And it was around my wrist the day we got home and I took a pregnancy test.<br /><br />It was a Summer I will always remember. <center><br /><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/15209179?title=0&amp;byline=0&amp;portrait=0" width="500" height="300" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/15209179">Summer Adventures</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2810534">Aura</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br /><br />Full of new adventures.<br /></center><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6124/5916505653_2ae12bbc35_o.jpg><br /><br />Little bracelet traveled back to Austin to eat some yummy food and introduce baby E to some of the best migas that she will ever have.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6030/5916507605_2f4f12e9aa_o.jpg><br /><br />And at 11:20am, it was mixed in to hospital bracelets and around my wrist, on the morning that Elodie was born.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6132/5916508005_e0d35c6f6d_o.jpg><br /><br />You made it two years, bracelet. Two years full of exciting memories and life-changing moments that were soaked into your worn, bleached threads. Goodbye, little friend.Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com60tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-49179246303214681992011-07-05T17:24:00.005-05:002011-07-05T20:59:50.741-05:00Why I choose to wear my baby.<img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5311/5906168229_595eacecdf_o.jpg><br /><br />When I was pregnant with Elodie, we were one person. Quiet moments in the backyard, watching the world around us unfold, I would tell her what life was like out here. <br />The breeze, the birds, the drops of sticky Summer on your bare skin.<br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5079/5906168635_f0bb3ef4d1_o.jpg><br /><br />After she was born, it felt like a big part of me was outside of my body. Although I physically felt free - no longer bound by the restrictions of a huge, looming belly - I felt a dull, empty ache for where Elodie used to be.<br /> <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5160/5906169913_8a4382ddcb_o.jpg><br /><br />Those first few weeks, it was just us. Naked, warm, comforting. I would press her against my bare skin and we fit together like two missing pieces that were finally bound again. Her head on my chest, her throat against the curve of my breast, her belly against the roundness of mine, an empty, hollow room where she once used to be...we would breathe and our hearts would beat as just one. She was still a part of me in those moments.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5072/5906169083_b5e490516d_o.jpg><br /><br />Elodie is 3 months old. I love to watch her relationship with my husband, an absolute puddle in the hands of her Dad, I am pulled back to the days where I was also a little girl, in love with my Daddy who could do no wrong. She bats her eyelashes, giggles, and already I watch her flirting with Daddy, and starting this sweet journey of love that Fathers share with their little girls. Always. <br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6022/5906726724_1f6a6650ce_o.jpg> <br /><br />And with me?<br /><br />I can’t wait for her to wake up sleepy and yawning from her naps. To wrap her up and keep her close to my heart, once again. To look down and see her tiny hands, where a round, looming belly once was. <br /><br />She grabs my (falling) hair and holds up her head, a look of complete contentment across her serious face. She watches the world unfold, through her own eyes, and whispers from me. Stories of the <i>breeze, birds,</i> and <i>sticky drops of Summer on her bare skin.</i> <br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6039/5906170363_dde6d39fb4_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5160/5906727950_5ab7406c54_o.jpg> <br /> <br />And in these moments, we are one person again.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><A href="http://marvelouskiddo.blogspot.com/2011/06/sakura-bloom-styleathon-round-2.html">Round Two</a> of the <a href="http://marvelouskiddo.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20Sakura%20Bloom%20Styleathon">Sakura Bloom Styleathon</a> - How wearing my baby has changed my life/why I choose to wear my baby.<br /><br /><br />Striped shirt - <A href="http://www.lillap.com/Home/Short-Sleeves/L2EV">Lilla P</a>, 2011<br />Gray Skirt - <A hef="http://target.com">Target</a>, 2010<br />Leather flip flops - <a href="http://www.abercrombie.com/">Abercrombie and Fitch</a>, 2007<br />Denim cut-offs - Thrifted and cut into shorts, 2011<br />Sunglasses - <A href="http://www.selimaoptique.com/">Selima Optique</a><br />Sling - <A href="http://www.quirkybaby.com/sakura-bloom-essential-linen-driftwood-sienna.html">Sakura Bloom</a><br />Elodie's onesie - <a href="http://www.keepaustinweirdfest.com/kids">KEEP AUSTIN WEIRD</a>... bought on our babymoon in Austin, 2011Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com62tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-59295666902440834982011-07-01T08:21:00.004-05:002011-07-01T08:33:41.137-05:00Backyard Farming - Scrambeled Eggs & Herbs<img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6026/5890373995_1765ccb6c7_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5160/5890374321_039e453242_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6010/5890941412_eedb83b221_o.jpg><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5313/5890373611_00c1948a23_o.jpg><br /><br /><br />This year, with my time limited and wanting to focus on our landscaping, I planted just a few veggies and a large herb garden. I always use herbs the most out of everything I plant, and anytime I grocery shop I seem to have a basket full of cilantro. As far as the edible ones go, I planted dill, parsley, mint, cilantro, and basil. I've been enjoying them all Summer, and yesterday evening I brought inside a big batch of them to dry and use all Winter long when I'm missing my garden and how fresh a meal can taste with the addition of some greens.<br /><br /><br />When you bring inside herbs from the garden, make sure to soak them for half an hour in a bowl of water. This knocks off any bugs, dirt, eggs, or anything else you don't really want to be digesting :)<br /><br />These eggs have been a favorite around here, all Summer. My Mom is an herb garden pro, and she regularly uses any greens (we call them <i>sabzi</i>) in all of her cooking. She made these for me one day, and I've been hooked ever since. I've never been a big fan of eggs, but needed the extra protein for pregnancy and breastfeeding. Now I make these eggs a couple times a week. <br /><br /><br />Enjoy!Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-52386825011763422852011-06-24T18:34:00.007-05:002011-06-24T20:34:32.211-05:00"Thick Skin."<img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5148/5868091456_c87d72d4e8_o.jpg><br /><br />When I was 8 years old, I went to a small elementary school in the middle of Oklahoma. To grow up here meant to understand that everyone liked you and was nice...until they found out you were different. <br /><br />There were only a handful of us – coarse hair, wide noses, slanted eyes, and skin color ranging from olive, to deep, ebony brown. I was somewhere on the lucky side, yet still foolish to think that the other children believed me when I said that I was only darker than them because of how much time my family spent outside. They stared in response, and I felt 5 inches tall.<br />For the most part I slipped through shadows, and escaped my first few years of school with only a small mess of heartbreak and realization about how cruel human beings truly can be. Ten years old, and I had already been called <I>Nigger</i> twice to my face. The first time, the words stung my skin. I didn’t know what that word meant, but I knew the tone behind it. And at that moment something inside me changed, and for the first time in my young, innocent life, I was made to feel that I wasn’t good enough. <br /><br />Somewhere on the other end of the most unlucky in our handful, was a little girl. Deep, ebony brown girl. Her hair stood off her head in one puff of a ponytail on the back of her head. Round bottom in leggings, strong legs, and skin so smooth and sable, shining under the fluorescent lights of our grade school cafeteria. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3120/5868091344_c82027924b_o.jpg><br /><br />Last night I swung outside with my husband and the night was still, and dark. I closed my eyes and in a flash, 20 years of my past life disappeared into the one memory of this little girl. <br /><i>“There was this girl I used to go to elementary school with….”</i> <br />I stopped, my grief, a 50 pound weight in my throat. In the dark, I could see him smiling at me. The moon and stars reflecting off his white grin. <br /><br /><i>“What is it?“</i><br /><br />In my head, I was finding the only words I could put together to explain my memory of her. <br /><br /><i>”She was only a little girl.” </i><br /><br />And in a flood of tears, my words drowned and were lost before they ever left my throat.<br />She never said one word. The only sound I remember coming from her was muffled cries. She sat in the corner of our lunch room, alone, dark skin shining under the fluorescent lights of the grade school cafeteria. She sucked her thumb, and she cried, and cried, and cried. I will never forget her face, not until the day I die and I am free from the sad memory I have held tight from this little girl.<br /><br />On her face, were two white, salty streams. Falling from her almond eyes and rolling down her cheeks, she sat in the corner and I stared at her dark, ebony skin. I remember the way those two lines of tears looked, but not much else, anymore. She was just tears, to me. <br /><br />After that year, I never saw her again. I found my solace in a small group of friends who were like me – the daughter of two college professors, she loved to try our food and play in my Mom’s garden with me. And a little girl, adopted from Korea when she was a baby. We were the lucky ones, we had each other and something about that made us feel a little less <i>different,</i> less odd, and less like the little girl with the dark, ebony skin and white tears.<br /><br />Over the years my skin grew thick with the exposure to what the world was really like, outside of my own little village. There was no solace or mercy when I walked out the door and away from what I loved. And for years, I was lead to believe that who I was, was not good enough. <i>They like you, until they find out you are different.</i><br /><br /><br /><br />One day, Elodie will come home from school with her own streams of salt staining the cheeks of her thin, olive skin. Because someone was prettier than her. Faster, smarter, thinner, braver. Because the boy (or girl) she loves chose somebody else. Leaving her wondering <i>”What does she have that I don’t?”</i> Because she was left feeling not good enough.<br /><br />In my moments of quiet reflection, I wish for the strength to put on a brave face and teach her to find her courage to go on, with her head up high and her feet planted strong. Even if it means that after she goes to bed, I will stand over her and drown in my tears – devastated to know that something so innocent and pure has felt pain to this capacity, for the first time. <i>Please let me find that strength.</i><br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5142/5868091622_59b993d82f_o.jpg><br /><br />Tonight, I am left wishing that every Mother, Father, teacher, friend, and peer could see the importance behind teaching kindness.<br />Tonight, I am left wishing for Elodie’s skin to grow thick, a lot faster than mine ever did.<br /> <br /><br />Tonight... I am wishing for that little girl. Today, she is a woman, almost 30 years old. In my heart, I dream that she has a beautiful little girl with her own skin tone and wild hair. Those strong legs, almond eyes, and only a picture of pure happiness painted across her thick, ebony skin, her white smile will be the only memory of her I will choose to remember. <br /><br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5115/5868115744_122f344788_o.jpg><br /><br />Happy Friday, friends. <br /><br />Thank you for your sweet words on <a href="http://marvelouskiddo.blogspot.com/2011/06/sakura-bloom-styleathon-round-1.html">Round One</a> of the styleathon, and your concern over the storm.<br /><br />We have been cleaning up our backyard, and making it feel like home again. Fortunately, my veggie and herb garden, as well as quite a few sunflowers ended up making it through the damage. I'm also happy to report that Michael spotted two of the baby birds last week :) The best news of all. On the sad side, Petey has $3,000 worth of damage! Our poor adventure-wagon. <br /><br />Leigh is hosting another giveaway for Round Two of the styleathon, and you can visit her to enter for a Sakura Bloom silk sling, and Marla Sielo Wristlet. <A href="http://marvelouskiddo.blogspot.com/2011/06/sakura-bloom-styleathon-reader-giveaway.html">Follow this link,</a> if you are interested. <br /><br />We have our Round Two assignments, and I am so excited for this one. We have 350 words to describe why we wear our children, and how baby wearing has affected our lives. How many adjectives can I come up with to fill 350 words about how amazing it is to nurse your baby while you brush your teeth?! :) <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3070/5867768701_225e863b62_o.jpg><br /><br /><br />Happy weekend, friends. Is there anything you hope to accomplish over this weekend?<br /><br />We are going to start the hard transition of moving Elodie to her own room, to sleep in her crib. I have a feeling there will be a lot of tears. From ME :)<br /><br />We are also spending time with family, taking Elodie to one of my childhood watering holes, and I'm going to read up on <A href="http://chaoticanimalz.wordpress.com/2010/08/30/camouflage-skin/">this blog</a> I came across when searching for Wallflower lyrics from middle school. Random, right? I love the internet for those very reasons. <br />The words in the photo of the girl came from a song on that blog, and I just so happened to stumble across it this evening as I was putting these words together to put here. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Sometimes I guess the stars and moon align, and we are blessed with tiny reminders of who we are, and who we want to be. Be kind, friends. Our words and actions leave bigger marks than we allow ourselves to think.Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com80tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-57139930240713476182011-06-20T17:40:00.000-05:002011-06-20T17:43:53.947-05:00Finding my style.<img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5145/5847793350_aa1bf86549_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3547/5847792220_987809960e_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5151/5847233281_8e4c09d7c6_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3432/5847792516_e91f16cb3e_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2637/5850597634_e4512ea3e4_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3038/5847233793_f4c0babf76_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2495/5850598044_5bbb999635_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2515/5847793054_32ddb4a540_o.jpg><br /><br /><p><br /><i><br />Top: Target, 2006<br />Skirt: <A href="http://www.lillap.com/New-Arrivals">Lilla P</a>, 2011<br />Boots: Target, 2011<br />Scarf: TJ Maxx, 2006<br />Belt: Thrifted, 2010<br />Sling: <a href="http://www.sakurabloom.com/">Sakura Bloom</a><br /></i><br /><br /><p><A href="http://marvelouskiddo.blogspot.com/2011/06/sakura-bloom-styleathon-round-1.html">Round One of the Styleathon - How Becoming a Mother Has Affected My Style.</a>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com67tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-59233645900572360412011-06-19T19:04:00.002-05:002011-06-19T19:09:51.576-05:00Thank you, Dads.<img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5311/5850979900_18e605b854_o.jpg><br /><br />Happy day, to the important men in my life. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3257/5850980370_41004a8ede_o.jpg><br /><br />Grandpa. <br /><br />Every old bike with a basket on the back will be my happy memory of Grandpa, long after he is gone and my hair has turned gray. <br />Those baskets collected cans for extra pennies, me, on our trips to the duck pond and park, and now they carry well water from miles away (please stop riding your bike 15 miles, you're 88 years old, Grandpa).<br /><br />From him, I have learned my own love of bicycles. I have learned to find <A href="http://aurajoon.blogspot.com/2010/05/calm-in-your-heart-lisa-leonard.html">calm in my heart. </a> An avid dumpster diver, he taught me to breathe life into the old and forgotten. And most importatly, Grandpa taught me to be a story teller. To close my eyes and draw my words from the memories in my heart. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5160/5850429401_c3e04eb606_o.jpg><br /><br /><A href="http://aurajoon.blogspot.com/2010/06/happy-fathers-day.html">Daddy.</a><br /><br />Sometimes I worried that I would never find another man to hold such a big piece of my heart. My dad held my hand when we walked until I was a teenager, and still kisses me on top of my head every time he sees me.<br />From my Dad I learned a love of photography, adventure, and a world of patience. He is the most accepting, open-minded man I know, and always allowed me to spread my wings and fly to my own adventures....as long as I always knew the way to fly home. <br />Thank you for always holding my hand. In more ways than one. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3264/5850429635_f3dbd1cf91_o.jpg><br /><br />Doug.<br /><br />My Father-In-Law, who gave me the best advice I have ever heard about parenting. He told me that the best gift that I could ever give my children would be to love their Dad. Happiness from the heart of the family spread like sunshine to every part of the lives it touches. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3209/5850980142_1d6d041b61_o.jpg><br /><br />Michael. <br /><br />I couldn't have found a better opposite to ground me and balance out my differences to raise Elodie. I hope that somewhere down the line, she will grow up to realize that because we were the sun and moon, somehow our lives sang a moving tune in perfect harmony. Sometimes she will be me, hot, gold, and burning. And sometimes she will be him, cool, calm, and gray. <br /><br />The morning that Elodie was born, he stayed by my side the entire 12 hours and pulled me back down to Earth when I thought I had surely left my own body. A constant anchor that never changes, but only sways in the wind. Happy first Father's Day.Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-12153748134727411902011-06-15T11:48:00.011-05:002011-06-15T14:57:14.151-05:00The wind comes sweeping down the plain... (part 2)<img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5025/5836157135_75a71a857e_o.jpg><br /><br />Yesterday was a normal, hot, Oklahoma-Summer kind of day. The temperature hit 100 degrees and Elodie and I stayed in most of the day, under the air conditioning on the couch. In the evening the temperature started to cool down and it was like it was Spring again. Clouds covered the sky and we laid in the hammock until her cheeks turned pink. <br /><br />When I came inside to start dinner, I heard thunder, and already in my head, I was excited about our evening. Michael would be home from work at 7:30, dinner would be ready, Elodie would be bathed and in bed, and we would have a date night - backed by the sound of one of our sweet Summer thunderstorms. <br /><br />I went outside to take video of the storm coming in. The clouds whirled in a sea of gray and the family of grackles - Mama & Papa bird, and their three babies chattered in the Bradford Pear tree behind our house. I took video of them, dancing, whistling, singing. I have been taping them for the last few weeks. Leaving the shelter of their home, black silhouettes against our beautiful sky.<br /> <br />Twenty minutes after Michael got home, the wind started to tear through the sky and we lost power. The house went dark, my music turned off, and the stove turned cold. <br /><br />And then the most powerful storm I have ever been in ripped through our neighborhood and took everything in it's path. For half an hour, hail almost the size of tennis balls, 85 mile per hour winds, and heavy rain poured down onto our house. I have lived in Oklahoma my entire life, been in hundreds of tornado warnings and never once have I seen anything like it. Our trees bent and snapped, our window screens were bent and ripped from the frames, and I couldn't do anything but stand in the window, videotaping and watching something so powerful that I had absolutely no control of. <br /><br />When it was over, we went outside to see what had happened to our little yard and house. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3027/5836705306_a7c3e0e08d_o.jpg><br /><br />Outside, we found the shredded remains of the plants and flowers I spent the last few months nurturing. Our willow tree lost almost all it's branches, and there was a fence in our yard that did not belong to us, or any of our neighbors.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3262/5836705610_f643e75592_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2565/5836157427_d0d085cc29_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5224/5836157509_6dfb06c13d_o.jpg><br /><br />The wind picked up again, and the storm was coming back. Originally it had come from the North and destroyed our back yard. This time we felt it coming from the South, and we ran back inside before the second round of hail, high winds, and rain came through and did more damage.<br /><br />When it was over, the sun started to come out and the air was still and calm. There was still rain falling, big glassy beads shining in the sunshine.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3656/5836705714_5abbee2ee5_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5187/5836706776_006026ed4f_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3193/5836706328_9747a65b23_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5277/5836705804_2e053fc8b3_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2665/5836158189_f672d7063b_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2578/5836158567_73b4b143c4_o.jpg><br /><br />Other than crushed shutters, downed fences, ripped screens, and this hole in our house, we got lucky. Our neighbor lost a few windows from the huge hail, and their house flooded.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5039/5836157233_548c15d091_o.jpg><br /><br />Most of our damage came to our little yard...my gardens.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2721/5836705970_22328244dd_o.jpg><br /><br />I walked through the yard with a sad feeling in the pit of my stomach. My sunflower garden laid destroyed, before it ever had a chance to bloom into a field of yellow. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2514/5836159257_c50308c036_o.jpg><br /><br />My saddest discovery came with the realization that most of the giant Bradford Pear was gone. The sweet Spring blooms I clip to bring inside, the flat green plates it formed in the Summer, that burned bright and red by Fall. And the family of grackles.<br /><br />Mama and Papa bird were flying frantically from tree to tree, circling our street looking for their babies. <br />I held E a little bit tighter and felt an overwhelming guilt for so strongly mourning a patch of lost sunflowers.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5221/5836707014_a9a286a294_o.jpg><br /><br />When night rolled around and our power still wasn't back on, we packed up with flashlights and headed to my parents house.<br /><br />I thought about our June 14th storm. Living in a state with storms so strong that 35,000 homes were left without power. Just like the song says, every Spring and Summer, wind, hail, tornadoes, and rain sweep down our plains and leave destruction. And every year, like a haunting reminder, we realize that we are part of something bigger than our every day. <br /><br />The world keeps spinning, the grackles will have a new brood of babies, and even my sunflower patch will grow back, next Summer. <br /><br />Today, I am thankful for our health, insurance, and weather so bad, that the good seems that much sweeter. <br /><br /><br /><br /><b><br />Also read:</b><i> <A href="http://aurajoon.blogspot.com/2010/05/where-wind-comes-sweeping-down-plain.html">Where the Wind Comes Sweeping Down the Plain - May 2010</a></i><br /><p><P>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com70tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-70293787958008512462011-06-12T07:49:00.006-05:002011-06-12T23:26:52.431-05:00A mess of photos - Early Summer<center><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2607/5823512596_db19f744d4_o.jpg><br /><br />Late nights in the hammock, under the stars and twinkle lights.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2558/5823512732_b12c337c84_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3232/5822951481_29bc21f771_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2109/5822948937_93394ae75f_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5071/5823513946_3118ea5fc6_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5119/5822951239_b21ea41e70_o.jpg><br /><br />Radishes, lettuce & strawberries from the garden.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2469/5822951021_04b0740858_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5149/5823513448_c73d730bc4_o.jpg><br /><br />Russian sage, lavender, peonies, and yucca around the yard.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2280/5822952377_cedd1db083_o.jpg><br /><br />colorful pots...<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3649/5823515548_41a1bb7b06_o.jpg><br /><br />...tiny ants on my sunflowers,<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3638/5823513598_5546ccfdf9_o.jpg><br /><br />and cannas outside my kitchen window.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2281/5822954287_de631a5587_o.jpg><br /><br />My hens&chicks from last Summer. I brought my pot inside during the cold months and ended up with a new school of plants.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5273/5823516008_34185c88ac_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5154/5822951999_93d1fdc857_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2065/5823518050_949a31ca4e_o.jpg><br /><br />Some of my wildflowers, in the flower garden.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2267/5823514304_850a29dd2f_o.jpg><br /><br />Watering the garden, a little spider and it's web that I didn't see until they got wet.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2233/5822951685_90a69a3301_o.jpg><br /><br />Two leaves of catnip - one for each cat, Fig & Olive. I bring them inside for them at night, and I like to tell myself that they know I planted that catnip, just for them.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5319/5823515222_981c5e1e59_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5141/5822953859_23c993d08d_o.jpg><br /><br />A drowning in the backyard.<br /><br />Inside a rain-filled hole dug for hammock posts, this little mouse was no more.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2320/5823513224_63095c4388_o.jpg><br /><br />A baby so precious, to erase mental images of drowned mice.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3617/5823514128_43eaf825b5_o.jpg><br /><br />I dream about these evenings, all day long.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2513/5823516218_cce92b5c67_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3033/5823512884_e5dfc5085e_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2511/5822949597_8b46852834_o.jpg><br /><br />An old photo.<br /><br />Uncle Zabi, Grandma, and the cousins. The little peanut with the cinnamon roll bellybutton is me. My sister is standing next to us with her wild hair in her face.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3246/5823516594_2cb6f0439d_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3535/5822953449_283093389f_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2325/5822953089_7febdaa564_o.jpg><br /><br />Cousins.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5029/5822954935_4267fd49ce_o.jpg><br /><br />A gift for a friend.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3062/5823519222_681868549d_o.jpg><br /><br />and Grandma & Grandpa's house. Clothes lines, tiny hand-made greenhouses over the garden...<br /> <br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3043/5823518852_876b0b210b_o.jpg><br /><br />...Grandma feeding the birds bits of bread tucked into her shirt, a kitchen window mango, and Grandpa....being Grandpa. <br /><br /></center><br /><br />How was your weekend, friends? Anything exciting happen?<br /> <br />Mine is just beginning, and today is day one of three to relax, clean, work in the yard, and warm up that hammock.<br /><br />Last week Leigh from <A href="http://marvelouskiddo.blogspot.com/">Marvelous Kiddo</a> announced our round one assignments for the styleathon. <A href="http://marvelouskiddo.blogspot.com/2011/06/sakura-bloom-styleathon-round-1.html">How becoming a Mother has affected our style.</a><br />I was just going to scrap the 350 word requirement and post a picture of me in sweat pants with no make up and dried breast milk in my hair, but I figured that wasn't exactly what they were looking for :) The truth is, I don't feel nearly as fancy as I used to, and time spent getting ready doesn't feel quite the same since E came around. In the mornings, I love to pick out her outfits, fix her hair, and make her laugh. Those sweet moments take up a lot of the time I used to spend getting myself ready - but there are still little bits of me lost somewhere in here. Last week I wrote my 350 words about how becoming a Mother has changed my style, so look for that post later on this week.<br /><br />I feel so grateful and newly inspired to be part of this styleathon. I am taken back to the creative writing class I took 4 times in high school when I was first learning how much I loved to piece together words and sentences to form something powerful. Writing from my heart has always been something I come back to, beginning with the days of my childhood where I wrote my very first book....about puppies and kittens :) My Mom still has it, almost 25 years later. To this day I still dream of writing my book, but for now, this space is my absolute outlet of that dream. <br />I know the styleathon is a competition, but I am not in the least bit competitive by nature and I am just excited to be along for this ride with the handful of other talented Mama's involved - <a href="http://www.thelittlestblog.com/">Elizabeth,</a> <a href="http://joannagoddard.blogspot.com/">Joanna,</a> <a href="http://sometimessweet.blogspot.com/">Danielle,</a> <a href="http://www.natthefatrat.com/">Natalie,</a> <a href="http://bleubirdvintage.typepad.com/">James,</a> <a href="http://jenloveskev.com/">Jen,</a> <a href="http://londonmomma.tumblr.com/">Sharmadean,</a> and <a href="http://www.thelilbee.com/">Melisa</a>.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5320/5823513780_30a52e73cf_o.jpg><br /><br />Leigh is also hosting a giveaway (ending tonight) for a Sakura Bloom Sling and $250 <A href="http://www.lillap.com/pima/pages/splash.html">Lilla P</a> gift card.<br /><br /><br />I hope you all enjoy your sleepy Sunday, and the start to this (already) hot Summer.Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com64tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-84248590753433414612011-06-06T12:37:00.014-05:002011-06-13T00:07:59.645-05:00Lately.<img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5070/5804727261_d9a080f39b_o.jpg><br /><br />Hello, friends.<br />How has your week been? <br /><br />Around here, we're already in the mid-90's, and our Summer has officially begun.<br /><br />Memorial Weekend was a relaxing treat with a little road trip out of town. This weekend is also proving to be just as relaxing - with a patio night with some good friends, some yard work, and a concert in the park.<br /><br />We have been busy fixing up the backyard, and enjoying these early hot days before the temperatures (and mosquitoes) get too unbearable. <br />It took a couple years of my persistent pestering (and maybe begging, at times), and finally, finally, my dear husband has built me a beautiful hammock.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5071/5805350364_8e22c3e570_o.gif><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3445/5804731451_3da4805b87_o.jpg><br /><br />My break has included lots of time spent in this very spot. Elodie loves it, and falls fast asleep swinging with us in the hammock. I think we will be spending lots of days and nights out here, enjoying a little peace and calm. <br /><br />Baby Elle has officially found her hands. Along with constantly staring at them and trying to eat them, she favors opening her palm and pushing it against my mouth, where it is met with a thousand kisses. This child is so precious, and I feel so lucky that she is part of our family. Watching her learn, grow, and become her own little person has been a beautiful process, and we're only 2 months into the rest of our lives, watching and learning from our sweet daughter. <br /><br /><br />A lot of you have been asking about similar things, lately, and I thought I would answer a few FAQ's around the blog.<br /><br /><b><br />El said...</b><br /><i>Aura Joon,<br /><br />If you don't mind me asking, I'm curious- are you planning to teach Elodie Farsi? If so, how?<br /><br /> Love your posts.<br /><br /> ~Elham<br /></i><br /><br />Salam, Elham Joon.<br /> <br />We will of course be teaching Elodie how to speak Farsi. Knowledge is such a beautiful gift, and I especially feel that way about language. <br />I speak to Elodie in Farsi, and English. Normally I will say a phrase to her in English, then repeat it in Farsi. I have a little diaper change song that I sing to her, and it goes:<br /><br /><i>Elodie, you are Mommy's little bumble bee. <br />Elodie, zamboor-eh cucheloo hastee. </i><br />(you are a little bee)<br /><br />I've also asked my Mom to only speak to her in Farsi, and Grandma doesn't speak English at all, so I'm sure she'll pick up plenty from her. <br /><br /><b>Petals&Twigs said...</b><br /><br /><i> thanks for sharing all these stories. i have recently discovered your blog and enjoy every bit of it. what type of carrier are you using?<br /></i><br /><br />I'm a huge fan of baby-wearing. Huge. There are so many benefits to wearing your baby, and I knew my favorite baby-gear purchase would be carriers. I wanted her to be able to go everywhere with us, and to see things the way we see them.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3427/5804729743_a73af4a38a_o.jpg><br /><br />The first carrier we bought was a <A href="http://www.mobywrap.com/">Moby Wrap</a>, and I wasn't a fan of it. It was about ten miles of fabric, and it was so inconvenient to wrap myself up in it when I was running errands. We bought an <A href="http://www.ergobabycarriers.com/">Ergo</a> carrier next, and I love it. It's sturdy and secure, it has a sun shade, and pockets for wash cloths, your phone, pacis, and anything else you need. I love our Ergo for walks, hikes, and vacuuming :)<br /><br />The carrier I've been wearing in the last few posts is a ring sling, and it's a <A href="http://www.sakurabloom.com/">Sakura Bloom.</a> It's from their <A href="http://www.sakurabloom.com/categories/essential-linen-collection/">Essential Linen line.</a><br />It has been the freedom I have been looking for, while still being pretty. I cannot say enough good things about this sling, and wearing your baby in general. I love to see an interest in something that other cultures have been practicing for years.<br />I'd suggest looking into the differences between all the different kinds of carriers, and choosing what is best for you. <br /><br /><A href="http://www.carrymeaway.com/pages/BabyCarrierChart.html">Here is a chart</a> on some basic comparisons of different carriers.<br /><br /><br /><b><br />Anonymous said...</b><br /><i><br /> my ex husband took my son from me when we split up. he won full custody when my son was a baby. i was seeing him every other weekend now every saturday. i thought seeing him every week would be good but he is almost 8 and it's like we aren't close anymore. i don't know what happened. but he will say things to me like he didn't want to come that day and stuff. it breaks my heart. i don't know if his dad is telling him things or what. but i only see him a few hours on saturdays.. sometimes i get to go to his games. he lives an hour and a half away. any tips for something like this? his dad has a lot of money had had a great lawyer when he won and i didnt have anything. my son used to cry when he was younger and had to leave but now he don't mind. and he always has smart things to say to me. it's like i am not good enough or have enough. what do i do??<br /></i><br /><br />Anonymous, I am flattered that you think I would have a solution for this, but honestly, I have never been in this type of situation and don't have an answer for you.<br />I hope that you can keep communication open with your son, and express to him how you feel. Even though he is young, children still understand and comprehend a lot of what goes on around them, and it can't hurt to let him know how you are feeling.<br /><br /><br /><b>Anonymous said...</b><br /><i><br />Curious as to what you and your husband have planned as far as moving out of state, now that Ms Elodie is here? I'm sure it will be a gut-wrenching decision either way. Thanks for sharing your beautiful life with the world. - Miss J</i><br /><br />Miss J- We're just taking it one step at a time, and still searching for home. That might mean that we stay here until we're old and gray, or it might mean that we'll leave when Michael is done with school. Either way, our first priority is baby E. And right now, taking her away from her little village is not really an option. And I think every one knows that I couldn't possibly function without my family :)<br /> <br /><br /><b>Anonymous said...</b><br /><i><br />What happened to your dream of starting your business so you could stay at home with your baby? Why are you making the choice to let someone else raise your kid?<br /></i><br /><br />Oh my. Okay, here goes.<br /><br />I don't think I ever specifically said that I would become a stay-at-home-Mom when I started my business. I wanted to do it so I could spend more time with her, and not be away from home 5 days a week. It's not in my nature to be home, and I get really terrible cabin fever and crave the adult interaction I get from my job. I really respect women who make the choice to quit their jobs and run their home like a well-oiled machine, but that is not for me. When I decided to start my business, it was with the intention that I would always still work behind the chair at the salon, part-time. And that I am doing. <br />Now that I'm back at work, I am only working 24 hours a week. I have 3 days home with Elodie, and she is with my Mom & Grandma the days I am at work. <br /><br />As far as letting "someone else raise my kid," I hardly consider leaving my kid with the women that raised me as anything but wonderful. I made the best decision for my family, and I'd suggest you maybe not criticize someone's parenting choices :) Mamas tend to get a little defensive when they think a complete stranger that knows nothing about them is over-stepping their boundaries.<br /><br />I put my shop on hold because I had a baby. It takes a lot of work to open an online boutique, and the hours and hours I need to invest in it come second to spending time with my child, right now. Hopefully it will be up and running over the next few weeks.<br /><br /><br /><b>Anonymous said...</b><br /><i><br />i expect my second baby in 2 months. we all have 12 months long maternity here in Slovenia, Europe. How long is it in the USA? do you have "special" kindergarten for little babies? :-)</i><br /><br />I think we get 8 weeks here, on average. But that didn't apply for me. I am self-employed, so I actually got zero days of paid leave. Not only that, but I still had to pay for my booth at the salon while I was gone. Ouch. <br />Our special kindergarten is just daycare, and there are lot of tiny, tiny babies there. My sister had to leave my nephew at 6 weeks. It's so sad, because I know that we are really behind a lot of other countries as far as maternity leave goes. Hopefully the future will be better for new Moms in the US. <br /><br /><br /><b>Cheryl McCormick said...</b><br /><i><br /> Okay, so, I thought of asking you for some help, since I've been spending some long hot and hard days in my backyard! Yesterday, I pulled weeds around the concrete slabs in my backyard, it was probably the hardest thing ever!!! I pulled them all by hand too, no weed eater, and with that, came lots of scary little critters, from these weeds!! Question, how to keep the weeds away without killing grass? And how often or fast will they grow back, or how often should i make sure to trim them back? I know lots of info. But I needed to ask you, considering you are amazing at this! Thanks love!<br /></i><br /><br />My husband is in charge of those kinds of weeds! I just pull weeds from my garden, and they're never that bad. I am outside every single day, watering and working in the yard. So if you pull them while they're still manageable, they don't get out of hand.<br />One suggestion I have is to water first. I've watched him pull the big clumps of weeds from the yard, and if the soil is wet, they come up easier without ripping up the roots, which leave room for them to grow back. <br /><br /><br /><b>Jack said...</b><br /><br /><br /><i>Where are you getting these cute striped maxi dresses?!? Love it :)</i><br /><br />Forever21! I got so many questions about these dresses. I mostly just wear them around the house. They were $14 and I live in dresses in the Summer, so they're my go-to. I've been gardening, sleeping, and laying around in them, and they are just about the closest thing to feeling naked because of how comfortable they are. They're perfect for nursing, and I thought they were pretty cute in the process. I just bought them right after E was born (pretty forgiving on those extra baby pounds) so they're probably still in stores. I looked on their website and they're just down to the mustard/cream and the black/white stripe. <A href="http://www.forever21.com/product.asp?catalog_name=FOREVER21&category_name=DRESS&Page=1&product_id=2000012905&utm_source=GCS&utm_medium=base&utm_campaign=product_feed#">Here is a link</a> if you're interested. I must warn you, they are pretty close to see-through. Which makes them great for comfort, as a beach/pool coverup, or at a cookout. But maybe not so much for work or school. <br /><br /><br /><b><br />Anonymous said...</b><br /><br /><i>Can you write everyday?</i><br /><br />That's sweet, thank you. I don't think I could do the every-day blogging thing. I feel like what I would have to say would lose it's importance. So many bloggers seem to force out a post every day just for the visits and sake of having content. It's not really my style.<br />When I write, it's usually a product of something I scribbled on the weekends. "It Takes a Village" was hand-written (with one hand) in my backyard on the swing with Elodie the night before I went back to work. I really prefer writing whenever I feel inspired to do so.<br />In the cold months, I tend to write for myself a lot more. My mind is busy and I am trapped inside, feeling a bit tinged with anxiety and ready to spread my wings. When it gets warmer, I tend to post more photos, and my minutes are scarce because I can't tie myself down to the computer when the weather is beautiful. So I tell my stories the best way I know how in the smallest amount of time - through my lens. <br /><br /><br /><b>Anonymous said...</b><br /><br /><i>hello aura! i have tried looking up but i dont think you have answered it. sorry if you have but i wanted to know which camera tripod do you use?</i><br /><br />A friend is actually borrowing my tripod right now, and I can't remember the brand! I'm sorry. It's from Best Buy, and a friend bought it for me (the one who is borrowing it). I can't imagine that there is much difference between them all, but I could be terribly wrong. I use mine for photographing things around the house, items for the shop, etc. Oh, and all the photos in <A href="http://aurajoon.blogspot.com/2011/02/dressing-bump-2nd-trimester.html">Dressing the Bump</a> :) I know it's not a top of the line tripod but it has been great and done everything I needed it to for those instances. <br /> <br /> <br /><b>Anonymous said...</b><br /><i><br />will you please share some recipes for that yummy looking persian food?? it looks so simple but so tasty. i am trying to cook more healthy things at home and i LOVE chickpeas but have never made them at home. please share!! </i><br /><br />If you are interested in cooking <i>real</i> Persian food, I have only one book to recommend for you. You will never, ever need anything else. <br />Growing up, my family always cooked from their hearts. In Yazd, there were no recipes written down for the meals that had been passed down for generations. One day while I was in a Mediterranean grocery store, I saw a book called<A href="http://www.amazon.com/Food-Life-Ancient-Persian-Ceremonies/dp/193382347X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1307373678&sr=8-1"> Food of Life.</a> I'm normally not a cookbook purchaser, but when I flipped through the pages, I thought my heart would surely leap out of my chest. Reading the first few pages of the book actually made me emotional, to hear the author's account of what food meant to their family, and to see the beautiful photos that I had seen before, in our own home. In our culture, cooking and providing meals for your family is a huge part of who we are. And so much love and thought is put into each little detail. <br />Even the title gives me a lump in my throat, translated from the Farsi phrase "nush-e jan," a sweet wish that you will enjoy the meal, and something I heard my family say as a child. <br /><br />Some of the recipes in this book are 4,000 years old. When I brought it home to show my family, they sat around the book for an hour, excitedly squealing and pointing out recipes for meals they had enjoyed as children, themselves. I imagine seeing something like these recipes written down was incredibly nostalgic.<br /><br />So if you're interested in Persian food, please consider this book. It has so many sweet stories, poetry, and beautiful photos entwined into the pages, that it almost feels more like a peek into the culture than an actual cookbook.<br /><br /><br /><b><br />Betsy said...</b><br /><br /><i>Is that diaper bag the Scout, by Petunia Pickle Bottom???</i><br /><br />Good eye, Betsy :) When we started talking about a diaper bag, we knew we wanted something we could both carry, without one of us (Michael) looking a bit silly carrying a pink purse. I'm not overly girlie myself, and also wanted something neutral that we could use later as luggage. We looked a lot at Fossil leather bags, but didn't quite find anything we really liked. For our baby shower, my sister gave us <A href="http://www.petuniapicklebottom.com/collections/scout/rubiconrucksack/blackbuffaloleather/">this diaper bag.</a> We. Love. It. It has separate inserts for the inside, so you can even use it as a laptop bag. <A href="http://www.designpublic.com/content/dp-office-events/ali-loves-her-scout-bag/">And how cute is this?</a> It makes the perfect bag for any photographer.<br /><br /><br /><b>C'est Moi said...</b><br /><br /><i> Hey girl,<br /><br />Quick question about your baby tent; it's the Peapod, right? What model and why did you choose it? I'm so confused because they offer so many models and I'm not sure what the difference is between them?</i><br /><br />Aren't these tiny tents just precious? Ours was a baby shower gift from a friend, so we didn't have to make any decisions on the model. It's the <A href="http://www.kidco.com/main.taf?p=4,5">Peapod Lite - P001.</a> <br /><br /><br /><br /><b>erin d. said...</b><br /><br /><i>Dear Aura,<br /><br />I'm due for my first baby this August and I'm starting to panic. As a new mom, what baby items do you feel you couldn't live without, and how do you know what to do? <br /></i><br /><br />Honestly, I think the only 5 things I religiously use are washcloths, a carrier, diapers, swaddle blankets, and my boobs. Pretty simple.<br /><br />I put off our registry until a week before our baby shower, after much hounding from my sister. She even made me a 3 page list of all the things she thought I needed. What it came down to was that Michael and I decided we didn't want a lot of "stuff" for Elodie. The baby industry is booming for a reason - they make you think you need these things, and you buy them. Just as simple as that. Our registry was very small. Mostly things like pajamas, wash cloths, diapers, and bath items. And even then, half the bath stuff went back to the store because I just wash Elodie with a bar of my own natural oatmeal soap. We got a giant box of baby wipes, and I used about five before we decided to just use a warm, wet washcloth. We never bought little mittens to keep her from scratching her face, I laughed at the thought of a diaper pail, and I just file her tiny fingernails with my own nail file. <br /><br />Babies don't need much. Children don't even need much. The constant desire to provide our kids with everything new and exciting out there is just creating an un closeable gap for them in their search of wanting more and more as they get older. Just provide them with the basic needs, food, shelter, love. I promise that in 30 years your child will not be mad at you or screwed up for not buying every little thing that Target and Babies R Us tells you you need to make your baby happy. <br /><br />As far as what we actually use: A swing. Ours is the <A href="http://www.target.com/Fisher-Price-Lil-Lamb-Dream-Swing/dp/B0018Z6910">Lil'Lamb</a>, and it was a hand-me-down from my sister. It's a savior when I want to put her down to eat, clean, or even work in the yard. I turn on the mobile and set her next to the open window facing the backyard so I can hear her. I turn on a cd because the music honestly annoys me :) One setting is just crickets, and I love that for her naps. But otherwise I only play her our music because I'm a music snob.<br /><br />Our carseat is the <A href="http://www.chiccousa.com/gear/car-seats/keyfit-30-extreme.aspx">Keyfit30.</a> I also love it. I hung one tiny hand-made wool bird from the handle and she talks to it all day. I was not surprised to see that she didn't need something loud, obnoxious, and overly colorful to keep her entertained.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2101/5804767769_0d6b931067_o.jpg><br /><br />Our stroller is the <A href="http://www.kolcraft.com/products/strollers/lightweight/228-contours-options-3-wheeler">Kolcraft Countours</a>. Michael and I both love this thing. I carry her a lot of the time, but we are always so excited to bust it out and push her around in it. Since she's still young, we just pop our carseat into it (the seat it comes with is removable) and go.<br /><br /><br />We use a bassinet, also a hand-me-down from my sister. It's in our room next to my side of the bed, and Elodie has been sleeping there since day one. When she's not in bed with us :) She'll be in it for a couple more weeks and then she's off to her own room, to sleep in her crib.<br /><br />Everything else that you need, you will realize with time. I didn't even use our baby bathtub for almost 2 months because I either washed her in the sink, or with me in the tub. I'd really suggest just buying the basic things, and getting everything else as you come across the need for them. <br /><br /><br /><b><br />Victoria said...</b><br /><br /><i>I know you get so many questions about your photos, but I would so love to know how you photograph your family with that sunflare. Do you use a tripod or ask someone to shoot it for you? What setting do you use? Congratulations on a beautiful new chapter of life... I gave birth to my first (a son, Henry) on March 31, so I can relate to your every word.</i><br /><br />I don't use the tripod for any photos of us, other than the <a href="http://aurajoon.blogspot.com/2010/12/you-and-me-1-3.html">maternity photos</a> we took in the Fall. It's too hard to carry around, plus I'd feel kind of silly around a bunch of people setting up the tripod for a quick photo of us :) And I certainly never ask for help. Any time I have done that, people stare at my camera like it's an alien, so I gave up.<br /><br />In the last 10 years that I've spent taking photos, I've had to come up with some pretty creative places to set it.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3039/2433787414_9308cc11c9_b.jpg width=800><br /><br />Like on the ground, tilted upwards with my purse.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2287/5805400868_e0f3f1f2d9_o.jpg width=800><br /><br />Hanging from a tree branch by it's strap (seriously, that's why it's tilted) or on a rock.<br />I've balanced it on the hood of the car, on steps, and the backyard grill.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5306/5669921182_153c4053fa_o.jpg><br /><br />This one was taken on top of our stroller. <br />Anything can be a make-shift tripod, if you just look.<br /><br />As far as flare goes, it's kind of the same thing. You can get flare from a 1 megapixel camera phone. There isn't a setting that produces it, it is from the source of light coming into your photo and where you position it that gives it flare. When you look through your lens, you can see it there. If you see it, it will be in the photo. My favorite element to work with is natural light, and I'd like to think that the flare is a little bit representative of my own personal style. So I've spent years trying to perfect it in photos. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3193/5805287732_b0549c7d23_o.jpg><br /><br />(taken in the evening)<br /><br />The best time of day to shoot it is either early morning, or evening. When the sun is closer to the horizon line, it's easier to get it in your shot and produce flare.<br /><br /><br /><b>How do you make the moving photos?</b><br /><br />I bought a program called Ulead Gif Animator last year, and I make them in that.<br /><br /><br /><b>Will there be more posts on Backyard Farming?</b><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2213/5804729497_06f65f213e_o.jpg><br /><br />Yes, eventually. With a new addition to the family, I have had to balance the time I have differently. And that means that she comes first, then working outside, and blogging about it last. I have quite a few posts on how to get your garden started at the top of my blog in the Backyard Farming section.<br /><br /><br /><b>Will you share Elodie's birth story?</b><br /><br />Hopefully, someday. I wrote it in a letter to her a few days after she was born, but that one is personal. I had a truly amazing experience, and feel so lucky that everything went well. I do hope to share it, so I can explain my experience with natural birth, and hopefully encourage other women to know that they can do the same. Right now I just need more than a few minutes to sit down and write something that important, and the time can't seem to find me. I will say that I will for sure share it, I just don't know when.<br /><br /><br /><b>Did you have her at home?</b><br /><br />For the first 22 weeks, we planned on having a home birth. But financially, we couldn't afford it, or the bill if we had to transfer to a hospital in case of an emergency. Insurance doesn't exactly support having a baby at home in your bath tub :) There is only one hospital in the state of Oklahoma - OU Medical Center - that allows midwife births. I was hesitant, because like most women that have seen it, The Business of Being Born scared the hospital birth out of me. But I had the most wonderful, downright amazing birth experience possible. I wore my own clothes, had the lights off, listened to my music, and labored in the tub. I ate, walked around, and made my own decisions. I wasn't hooked up to one machine, there was no unecessary intervention, and I was able to deliver naturally. In the end, I came home with a healthy baby and I was healthy myself - which is the most important thing. If you live in the Oklahoma City Metro, I'd really recommend looking into the midwives at OU Medical. <br /><br /><br /><b>What does her name mean?</b><br /><br />Elodie is a French name, meaning "riches." <br />We went back and forth on using a Persian name as her first or middle name, and ultimately decided that since we loved "Elodie" so much, that we wanted it to be her first name. French and Farsi are spoken from the same parts of the mouth, and the language rolls off the tongue in a strangely similar way. When I was pregnant, I asked Grandma and Grandpa what they thought of the name, and both of them could pronounce it like a word they'd known all along. Even though they even have trouble pronouncing my nephew's name - Brady. So we knew it was the name for us.<br /><br />It is pronounced el-oh-DEE. When people stare at me in confusion, I say it's just Melody without the M, but that's not absolutely true. To hear my family say it is like music to my ears, because there are certain inflections that are lost when just taking the "M" away from Melody. I have a client that moved here from France and now teaches it at the University. I get lost in our conversation, not only because of how wonderful she is as a person, but her voice is like music itself. She has a heavy French accent, and I had her pronounce the name for me many times to make sure I was hearing it correctly. When Elodie met her for the first time, Bernadette held her and whispered sweet French words into her ears. <br /><br />Her middle name - Neda, is Persian. I'm not quite ready to share it's meaning yet, because it makes me a bit weepy. And anything that makes me weepy calls for a long, wordy, emotional post that will come some day soon.<br /><br /><b>Will you be sharing photos of the nursery?</b><br /><br />I am feeling a bit bad saying "some day" so many times, but I really will :) Here are a couple, for now.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5310/5804730941_ddee199c74_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3351/5804729157_0f2c74b599_o.jpg> <br /><br /><br /><br />Thank you all for your sweet words, and the support you leave here for me. The response I got on <i>It Takes a Village</i> was wonderful, and I loved reading all of your personal stories and accounts on the subject.<br />Sometimes family around is not always an option, but in those cases, you can always create your own village. Whether it is through friends, family, or any sort of child care that you can provide for your little one. As long as they know they have someone to go to when life gets hard, things will be just a little bit easier through those difficult times.<br /><br /><br />In the month of May, <b>95,305</b> of you visited this blog. 59,504 of you were new, and every month that number is climbing by the thousands. I am so happy to have all of you here, following this story. Please do say hello, anytime. <br /><br />Our most exciting news this month came from a reader who let me know that Lauren Conrad had <A href="http://www.laurenconrad.com/post/getting-pretty-feet-for-summer">used a picture of my feet on her beauty blog</a>.<br />Can you believe it? My friends have all gotten such a kick out of it, and are teasing me about my famous feet. <br />I took that photo with a 5 megapixel point and shoot camera, 6 years ago, on a trip to Destin, Florida. <br />Who knew that it would go places, some day. <br /><br /><br />I am also excited to share with you guys a project I will be working on the next couple months. I was so flattered when Leigh from <A href="http://marvelouskiddo.blogspot.com/">Marvelous Kiddo</a> asked me to be a part of a project for Sakura Bloom. Starting this week, myself and some pretty amazing Mama's with blogs will be taking part in the first-ever Sakura Bloom Styleathon. I absolutely adore this company and what they stand for, and can't wait to see what projects Leigh has for us. <br /><br /><br />Happy Monday, friends.Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com85tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-88203978881300879412011-05-30T23:24:00.005-05:002011-05-31T12:11:21.085-05:00BeRightBack.<center><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5186/5779702472_8ab0ce7a6c_o.jpg><br /><br />The Oklahoma wildflowers are finally in bloom, waving their white flags of a passed <A href="http://aurajoon.blogspot.com/search/label/spring%202011">Spring ('11). </a><br />On these days, where the seasons start to shift, I can't bring myself to spend a second longer than I need to doing anything but my list of lazy Summer promises: watering holes, picking flowers, cut-offs, watermelon, patio nights, the hammock, bare feet, and my garden. <br /><br />I will be right back. For now, I need a few more days to give proper welcome to Summer 2011. <br /><br />Here's to you. <br /><br /></center><br /><br /><br />PS, Melissa over at <A href="http://dearbabyblog.com/">Dear Baby</a> is on a little break from her blog to enjoy these first sweet weeks with baby Arlo, and is featuring a few guest posts. I blogged over there, last week: <A href="http://dearbabyblog.com/post/5804051861/a-day-in-the-life-aura-joon">Life With Elodie.</a>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-49571614242745666252011-05-23T11:20:00.007-05:002011-05-23T15:49:06.769-05:00It takes a village.<center><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2516/5751524700_1892d601f4_o.jpg><br /><br />When Michael and I started our life together, we knew that being close to our family was a priority. <br />In my family's culture, it's not uncommon for Grandparents to actually live with their children, and help them raise their own. When I was younger, the 6 of us - My Mom & Dad, Grandma & Grandpa, my sister and I all lived together. Sardined in University Housing apartments, as my Dad attended college. The sound of the train running through the heart of town is still a memory I feel in every part of me. After we moved out, we moved to a tiny 2-bedroom home on Berry Street. The house is long gone - torn down years ago to make room for half a million dollar homes. But when I drive past that part of town, I always remember our little house.<br />Set on a large plot of land, it backed up to the creek. We had a cherry tree, a fence covered in grape vines, and a huge garden. We also had two large white rabbits that kept me company, and a couple chickens and a rooster (before Grandpa ate it).<br /><br />Our neighbor was Mister Powers. That's what our (barely English speaking) family called him. Dad was in school, submerged in the language. Mom was....not as great with hers :) Grandma and Grandpa only left the house to go with us on trips to the lake, picnics, and camping trips. So their English language never grew. And my sister and I were still speaking our first language - Farsi. In pre-school we started to learn our second language - English.<br />I think about Mister Powers, an old farmer. In his plaid shirt, white hair, and glasses, walking with a cane. Every farmer and 80 year old man I see is Mister Powers, to me now. 25 years later, his memory is still a print on a portion of my mind. I wonder if it made him laugh to see us....odd and brown, in the middle of a town picking chicken eggs and backyard farming. Sometimes I think that's what he liked about us. And the fact that those words, the sound... the sound of his name, on our unfamiliar tongues....<i>mister powers</i>, were our first words. <br /><br />Together, we lived in that house on Berry. A strong unit, where one of us fell short, the other stood tall. And there, I learned what a babysitter was. I learned that it really does take a village to raise a child, and our village was family. <br /><br /><br />When we decided to have children of our own, I knew that I wanted my own little village to raise this child. There are things only I can offer Elodie, as her Mother. But there is another world of opportunity, learning, and love she will receive from my decision to go back to work part-time. <br />Every woman chooses what is best for her family, and that is a personal choice that no one is allowed to judge. I have never felt guilt over what I have decided to do for her, and us. <br /><br /><br />And on Thursday, I went back to work.<br /><br />On my last day home with Elodie, I wished for peace. For leaving her, for my sanity. I wished for sleep, a calm baby, and learning to balance the new change that was about to wash over our family, like a changing tide. <br /><br />Instead, Elodie woke up on the wrong side of the bed. <br /><br />For three days and nights, the three days and nights before I went back to work, she was up all night, screaming during the day, and demanding to be held. It wasn't like the Elodie I really know in our quiet moments. Watching the birds fly over her, closing her eyes in the breeze. My baby finds peace in her heart, easily.<br /><br />And she cried, and cried, and cried. And <b>I</b> cried. And begged. And nursed her and rocked her, wore her all day, sang her her favorite songs, showed her the new blooms in the garden. Still, she cried, and she didn't sleep. And I cried. <br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3208/5750980947_0a9ae89ffd_o.jpg><br /><br />On my last day home, I took her to visit Grandma, and find my own peace in my heart. <br /><br />She fed me hot tea, dried fruit & nuts, saffron rice&chicken...trying carefully to hide the chicken underneath the rice. Insisting it was good for my milk, insisting that I hated meat from the time I was a little girl. We laughed as we remembered Grandpa in his "babysitter" days.<br />He watched me during the day, and one day, as he tried to feed me some of his meal - dried chunks of meat and bread, I demanded as much as a 3 year old really can - <i>"so you're some kind of babysitter, now?</i>" Then he taught me a lesson - my Grandpa, always one of my fist teachers of life. He said, "this comes from the chickens in the backyard." <br />For years, I struggled with my relationship with eating meat. And even though Mom and Grandma are still pissed that he taught me a hard lesson of life so young, I was never angry at him. He was indeed, just teaching me life...and he wasn't such a bad baby sitter, after all.<br /><br />25 years later, my Mom and Grandma still throw their voices in a high pitch, and repeat this, as we laugh and remember our tiny house on Berry Street. Mister Powers. The chickens.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5063/5751721577_71353f3019_o.jpg><br /><br />The day before I went back to work, Grandpa split open a watermelon for us to share, as they told stories of life in Iran - watermelon and bread for dinner some nights. <br />I watched Grandma with Elodie, amazed by a woman who reared babies in a time and place of little resource. Still showing her innate ability to calm a baby in no time flat, I have been photographing her doing this quite often. One day I will show Elodie and she will learn the story of <i>Aubibi-Bozorg,</i> Great-Grandmother.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5229/5750980087_17d0ed7820_o.jpg><br /><br />Grandpa ate his lunch by the South window, where he always sits in the sun. Bits of dried meat, and bread. Twenty five years later, an 88-year-old man is still a creature of extreme habit.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2528/5751523066_bd9609fd0f_o.jpg><br /><br />The drapes danced in the late Spring breeze.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2447/5750983395_4f7b7a272d_o.jpg><br /><br />We looked at old photos, and found this one of my parents in Germany, right before they moved to the states in '78. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2134/5750984255_8e746d13bd_o.jpg><br /><br />Grandma, and my Mom. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2514/5750983751_d4536487cb_o.jpg><br /><br />A photo my Dad took of my Mom, on one of their little dates to the Caspian Sea. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5104/5751528380_89933460a9_o.jpg><br /><br />....and our house on Berry Street. It catches my breath in my chest, to see the orange drapes under that window. Only a child, I realize the photo I am holding is just the way I remembered it...always printed on a piece of my mind. Every day I would rush behind the curtain to find the eggs that <i>Moghky-joon</i> (darling chicken) had left for me.<br /><br />And in that photo, I was in the lap of my second babysitter. My teacher. <br />While Grandpa taught me about the parts of life that stung my skin with their reality, Grandma taught me to find love. "<i>Chouk-Chouk, Chouk-Chouk,</i>" she called after the hens as she threw handfuls of rice and bread for them to eat.<br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5026/5751524442_d55812e3d6_o.jpg><br /><br />She is holding Elodie in her lap, and somehow, she is fast asleep. For me, on my last day home before I went back to work, she cried. And cried. And cried. And <b>I </b>cried.<br />Today, she is fast asleep on Grandma's lap as she tells me a story.<br /><br /><br />After my sister was born, they left Iran to come live in tiny University housing and become a village, so they could all raise that child. And when my Uncle needed them, they left everything they knew for a second time to become his village.<br />In Nigeria, Africa, where my Uncle was living with his wife and two babies, they lived in a small house next to the jungle. Grandma still feels her own stings on her skin, telling me how terrified they were of where they lived. On the edge of a town surrounded by no one they knew or could communicate with, they were sandwiched between Nigeria, and the open jungle. She softens her mouth into a frown and lists the wild animals she would hear at night.<br /><br />She tells me <i>"Your Grandpa has always been a bad babysitter. One day, after our kids had gone to work, we were home with the babies and I was washing dishes. I asked him to watch them, and before I knew it, they had disappeared." </i>She shoots him an angry glare, and he keeps eating his bread and dried bits of meat. She goes on.<br /><i><br />"I found him sitting on the porch in the sun, drinking his tea. And they were gone. I ran into the street after them, terrified that they had gone into town. Even more terrified that they had wandered into the jungle." <br /></i><br />She stops, and I watch pain take over her body. She rocks Elodie, and tells me that half a mile down the road, she finally found their shoes. Collapsing into tears of desperation, a little African boy came to her and pointed down the road. No lines of communication between them, she saw hope in his eyes. He ran down the road and came back with my two cousins. <br /><br />Telling me this story on my last day before I went back to work, Grandma feels gratitude, all over again. She said she ran home, grabbed the little money she had, and took it to the boy. Thirty years after the day she lost her grandchildren to the jungles of Africa, she is still begging her God to bless the little boy who returned them. <br /><br />My Grandmother, Elodie's <i>Bibi-Bozorg,</i> is the type of woman that loves any child with her entire being. When they hurt, she feels the sadness in every part of her own body. And in happiness, her heart sings to the rhythm of their laughter. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2783/5752187700_b69d333582_o.jpg><br /><br />When I got back home, Elodie was calm. We watered the flowers, walked through the garden, and both soaked in the Spring air. Every May, the air in Oklahoma turns thick. And before the wave of heat washes over us and Summer comes, there are a few weeks of absolute bliss. <br /><br />I spend every evening in these sweet weeks, outside. <br /><br />The trees bend and warp as our evening thunderstorms and tornadoes roll through the Midwest. There are not many things I love more than the way that feels on my skin. So much that I immediately stripped Elodie down on my last evening, before I went back to work. For the first time, she will feel our late Spring roll through into the heat of Summer - she'll learn that this feels like home. <br /><br />And instead of finishing my list of things to do before work in the morning (I'm learning To-Don't) we spend the rest of the evening out there. Swinging on the patio, where she fell asleep to that sweet breeze, and felt the damp night rolling through on her naked skin. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2132/5752395326_2178307fae_o.gif><br /><br />And I thought about tomorrow.<br />And if going back to work was right for us. <br />And in that very second, I remembered our house on Berry Street.<br /><br />My teachers.<br /><br />The ones that would teach Elodie, while I work part time to support my family. How could I ever be so stressed about a decision that suddenly seemed so right? <br /><br /><br />And I realized not only will she be just fine, but she will be even better for it. There are things that as a Mother, only I can give her. But it truly does take a village to raise a child, and I can't take that experience away from her.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5227/5750984037_975a01df09_o.jpg><br /><br />She will be in the arms of a beautiful woman with a free spirit and dirt under her fingernails. One who had her picture taken by her best friend, next to the Caspian Sea. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5185/5750978989_03127da3b6_o.jpg><br /><br />In the arms of a teacher who taught lessons about the reality of life. <br />And one who would run into the streets of the jungle, crying out for babies so precious they could have been her own. <br /><br /><br />.....<br /><br />Thursday I went back to work, and the world didn't end. I felt amazing, put on makeup and a cute outfit, and caught up with clients so dear to me they've become friends almost a decade in the making. I walked to lunch, turned my radio up really loud in the car...and I felt like me, again. <br /><br />And that day when I came home, Elodie was still waiting for me. On the porch we swung, and it's like we never missed a beat. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2561/5750982097_45c6b49f39_o.jpg> <br /><br /><br />When the weekend came, we celebrated our new life. We had friends over and drank beers & wine on the patio, watched the Oklahoma City Thunder in the playoffs, and spent time with family. We went to the first Summer Breeze concert series in the park, and we danced and felt Oklahoma Springtime rolling over our naked skin.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5149/5751721327_3f807aa7f2_o.jpg><br /><br />And she didn't cry. And I didn't cry.<br /><br />And for the last two nights, Elodie has <i>slept. </i><br /><br /> <br /><br /></center>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com106tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-84163277884378955582011-05-17T18:28:00.005-05:002011-05-23T08:51:55.232-05:00You can swim through every tide.<center><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5144/5731478765_7a4b0b74d3_o.jpg><br /><br />Hello, friends. <br /><br />I want to say that I always appreciate your sweet feedback and comments, but I especially appreciate them on my last post. There were so many wonderful, heartfelt comments in there, and I promise that I do read every single one. Even Michael loves to take time out of the day to sit and read through them all. Unfortunately about 20+ comments went missing on the day that Blogger had the hiccups, so I'm sorry if yours was one of the ones that disappeared. <br /><br />I also need to address something. It was not my intention at all to necessarily call out or get back at the anonymous comment I received. Although I appreciate everyone coming to my defense, I have incredibly thick skin, and it takes a lot to hurt my feelers :) It was my intent to show that life can go on after you have a baby, and who you are does not have to change. With that being said, I also agree with anonymous, and those of you that suggested that we all do change. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2225/5732026218_84322b1652_o.jpg><br /><br />I absolutely have. There are parts of me that are the same, and parts that will never be the same, again. I hope that in the next few weeks, I can be open here and share some of the hard times we have had with Elodie. Because lord knows there were bad days...and sometimes weeks. There is an ugly side to every beautiful story, and our story was no different. Becoming a parent changes you, even if you dig your claws deep and refuse it, kicking and screaming.<br /><br /><br />I also want to add that I want to continue to keep this blog a place where anyone can come to gather inspiration or find their way. Our monthly visitors are now closing in on 100,000 readers a month, and I know that a lot of you read through the comments as well as my posts. It is so easy to find support, encouragement, and new friendships in the words you all leave here. I would love it if we could all try our best to always be kind, and treat every one else with respect. Not only in the messages you leave for me, but for the ones you leave each other as well. I would hate to ever feel like something I said started a disagreement that could not be handled kindly. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3562/5732026112_b2fac93087_o.jpg><br /><br />Thank you, friends, and how was your weekend? We spent time with family, shopped, laid out on a blanket and listened to music at <A href="http://aurajoon.blogspot.com/search/label/groovefest">Groovefest</a>, and walked some new trails. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5065/5731478331_bb05223bd1_o.jpg><br /><br />I also got to spend a little time working in the yard, and pulled my first handfuls of strawberries and some lettuce from the garden. We are putting a lot of work into our landscaping/the patio this year, so pulling weeds from my veggie beds felt like visiting an old friend. And check out that mess in front of the fence on the right! That is a huge bed of volunteer sunflowers, coming back from last years spilled seeds. I hope that soon, I can find a minute to blog about backyard farming, this year.<br /> <br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2688/5731478111_dbfc83c083_o.jpg><br /><br />And speaking of change, the day after tomorrow I am back at work and my maternity leave is over. This time flew by entirely too quickly, and all day I have been feeling a bit blue about the changes that are to come. But like every other milestone I have reached in my life, I know that this too will transition smoothly and life will go on...with a few extra tears. We can all swim through every tide.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3162/5732025684_d377fcabc0_o.jpg><br /><br />Happy Tuesday, friends. <br /></center>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com75tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-47613792432260012622011-05-10T15:39:00.005-05:002011-07-05T17:36:10.772-05:00Life, Lately ...(making room for Elodie)<center><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2259/5707589259_6e372bdd26_o.jpg><br /><br /><b>anonymous asked: <i>I think you wrote way back, when you'd just found out you were pregnant, that motherhood would not change you. You'd still be you, your husband would still be him, you;d still take pictures of lots of things every day...Hmmmm...still feel the same way? Doesn't sound like it :)</i></b><br /><br /><br />Dear anonymous: When you have a newborn, you're exhausted, covered in spit up, living in pajamas, and fighting post-partum hormones... sometimes you don't feel like you. But I can assure you that I am still me, and Michael is still Michael. And of course I still take photos every day! Photography is a decade-long passion of mine, and I don't go one day without my camera in my hand. <br /><br />When you have a baby, it doesn't mean you will forever lose yourself, and the things you love. The most healthy thing you can do for that child is show them that you have a sense of identity, outside of them. I grew up with two parents who had a world of hobbies, passions, and love for each other. <br /><br />I guess by reading this comment, I realized that I must have given the impression that something about us has changed. It hasn't. Just because Elodie is here doesn't mean my world turned completely upside down and I lost all sense of who I was. Right now, life is about learning to incorporate Elodie into every part of who we are. <br />We are continuing to live our life just like we had before...everything just takes a bit longer, and there are a lot more messes :) Life does not have to stop because you have a baby. You can use it as an opportunity to show these precious little sponges what life, and the things you love, are all about.<br /><br />Here are a few photos from the last 6 weeks. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3204/5708151040_87cfba3190_o.jpg><br /><br />I am still taking photos every day, of the things I find to be beautiful. Like the tiny dried bits of last years tomato harvest... <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2463/5708148882_53bd53bd70_o.jpg><br /><br />...my handsome husband, who I am always creeping on and photographing from behind doorways and hidden in shadows. Until he catches me and flares his nostrils for ten minutes straight so I can't get even one more picture.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3153/5708146708_cbd9ab289e_o.jpg><br /><br />The best granola I have ever eaten, brought to me by my friend <A href="http://wholefamilyfare.blogspot.com">Megan. </a> Who put together the sweetest after-baby care package for me - yummy acai berry chapstick, lavender soap, yoga pants, home made salsa and granola, all wrapped in brown paper and tied with a rose.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3297/5708157770_1276414791_o.jpg><br /><br />blooming trees...<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2040/5707585037_a19bd360b5_o.jpg><br /><br />...and Grandpa :) <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2334/5708153090_8696e905fb_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3151/5708153620_b4c27c8959_o.jpg><br /><br />A picture a day, so I will never forget these sweet days...<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2264/5707583111_f2b41664f2_o.jpg><br /><br />...precious little boys, chasing bubbles in Grandma's sweater.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2715/5708150248_ae8f918154_o.jpg><br /><br />homework on the back patio, enjoying the lovely Spring weather and sweet, tiny babes.<br />(and spotting my husbands gorgeous gray hairs)<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3630/5707590559_f92330aa55_o.jpg><br /><br />watching my Mom cook traditional Persian food, and seeing a bowl of chick peas go from nothing to a whole meal.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3211/5707590853_37f491d17b_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3572/5707584785_3938697b60_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3623/5707713687_028e5f4467_o.gif><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3156/5707582887_ae236f1c9f_o.jpg><br /><br />Barley stew at Grandma and Grandpa's house on my weekly Wednesday visit. She insists it's good for my milk and fills up my bowl about three times after I tell her I'm full.<br />Then she tells me stories about herself when she was nursing. And how she had enough milk to feed all the babies in their neighborhood. Not only that, but she also fed all the local cats. Then she pours me another bowl of stew, hoping I will attract my own alley cats, while I try not to laugh at the thought of her Mama-catting all those Persian cats.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3153/5707584463_6c7d4ccbfb_o.jpg><br /><br />My Grandma, picking herbs.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2785/5707590125_09ea31e2a2_o.jpg><br /><br /><br />Elodie is not a weight that burdens my shoulders or a ball and chain to forever ground me to the confines of sweat pants and daytime tv. She's my daughter, and I want to show her the world. It has taken me 28 years to become who I am, and even though this tiny baby has changed me in ways I never knew she could, I am still me, and Michael is still him. To show her the world, from our backyard and farther is something we dreamed of doing from the minute we found out she would be here, in 40 weeks. And so far, we are doing just that.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2689/5708147250_6fdb6851fd_o.jpg><br /><br />She goes with us on our walks. Where we will teach her to find beauty in tiny things.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2516/5707589553_d71ba1fd44_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3251/5708277080_3e4f4d123b_o.gif><br /><br />I look down at her and watch shadows dance across her face from the trees. She squints, and sighs, and I know she is content to feel the sun warming her from the outside in.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2699/5707583851_762c04ac10_o.jpg><br /><br />She is with me in those sweet, sleepy evenings. With beautiful Oklahoma sunsets. I swing with her on the porch as our late Spring thunderstorms start to fill the air with their weight. She's feeling these things for the first time, and I get to be the one to show her that.<br /><br />We take her to restaurants, festivals, and museums.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3354/5708146410_146e759090_o.jpg><br /><br />And even if she sleeps the entire time, one day she will wake up to find herself in the middle of the life we kept living, even after she was born.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3636/5708151636_080eace2ce_o.jpg><br /><br />At least twice a week, she comes to watering holes, hiking trails, and along on trips to play disc golf with her Dad. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2091/5707592545_841177b9b4_o.jpg><br /><br />Sometimes just the three of us go. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2791/5707594133_615a70f89f_o.jpg><br /><br />I pull little blooms of honeysuckle up to her nose, and she smells something, for the first time. I was love-sick, remembering my own midwest Summertime, as a little girl. Pulling the stems from the honeysuckle and drinking the tiny drop of absolute heaven, before the bumblebees chased me away. Some day she will do this, too. And today, she smelled honeysuckle for the first time.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3496/5707592145_b472232109_o.jpg><br /><br />Sometimes we go with friends.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3361/5707593827_d06f5bf6e1_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2722/5708275454_76780c6f17_o.gif><br /><br />And while her Dad is busy playing, I show her the way the Cottonwood trees spread tiny specks of snow across the sky. When the light catches them, I think my heart could explode with how perfect those tiny little dots really look.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2553/5708152156_b790c5d7bc_o.jpg><br /><br />We took Elodie to her first music festival, and concert. She was surrounded by 30 thousand people, and she slept the entire time.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2630/5707591243_4084010dfe_o.jpg><br /><br />But I still know that she felt the bass in her fingers and toes...the same way she did when I was pregnant with her. Every night I would put headphones to my belly and feel her dance.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3636/5707711723_368a51594e_o.gif><br /><br />And I know she saw the lights.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3140/5708146916_7e647780aa_o.jpg><br /><br />I brought her outside with me, while I gardened. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2531/5707587203_91b0a8bc9e_o.jpg><br /><br />In her little tent in the shade, she waited....<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3171/5707591653_b85e537f4c_o.jpg><br /><br />...while I planted seeds, pulled weeds, and picked fresh strawberries from the garden. These days there is not much time to blog about backyard farming, but I still take the time to teach these things to Elodie. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3102/5707586739_3372cf6e2c_o.jpg><br /><br />Some days are hard. She cries all day, and I don't brush my teeth until 4 in the afternoon. I can only dream of my garden and sleep is something I don't even remember, anymore. But just like I thought there would be, there are so many good days, too. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3212/5707588003_4608346f8a_o.jpg><br /><br />All starting with the days that she started to look at me, and smile...and gurgle a sweet laugh from the bottom of her belly all the way to her throat and into my heart.<br /><br />And when she's feeling extra sweet, she sleeps for 5 hour stretches at night, and naps during the day. Giving me time to feel like <i>me</i> again. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2508/5708150536_a0da595f98_o.jpg><br /><br />Time to sit alone for a minute with my husband and drink a glass of wine on the patio.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3657/5708146036_f2a926d764_o.jpg><br /><br />Time to go for a long bike ride for the first time in almost a year without being pregnant. Time to stretch my tired body that has spent 9 months stretching to grow her. It feels like waking up, again.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3615/5707583453_ddf0375e11_o.jpg><br /><br />And time to look through old photos and laugh. To see where Elodie gets bits and pieces of me, even though she's a tiny duplicate of her Dad.<br />She has my nose, hair, toes, and tiny little string bean legs. <br /><br /><br />.......<br /><br /><br /><b>anonymous wrote: <i>I think you wrote way back, when you'd just found out you were pregnant, that motherhood would not change you. You'd still be you, your husband would still be him, you;d still take pictures of lots of things every day...Hmmmm...still feel the same way? Doesn't sound like it :)</i></b><br /><br /><br />Dear Anonymous - Yes, I do still feel the same way. <br /></center>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com140tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-46230239291696460042011-05-08T17:51:00.005-05:002011-05-08T18:13:43.223-05:00Happy Mother's Day.<center><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2732/5701419552_f68d3b4d09_o.jpg><br /><br />Last week, my Mother in Law told me that as a Mother, she made mistakes. And she also told me that I would be a better Mother than my own, and one day, Elodie would be even better than myself.<br /><br />It was in this conversation that I began to understand the path of self-awareness that we take as parents. One day we are just ourselves, and that is enough. Then they place a new baby in your arms, and all of a sudden every flaw and insecurity you have in yourself is illuminated to the thousandth degree. Will we ever be good enough, in our own eyes?<br />Somewhere along the path of life, these little things watch and grow from us, their Mothers. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3286/5701416586_d24e50af02_o.jpg><br /><br />When I was a little girl, I wanted so badly to be my Mom. Not yet conscience of my acts - pretending to cook and smash berries and leaves in the backyard with a rock. Carrying around tiny shovels and learning to grow a green thumb.<br />I was already practicing to become my Mom, who I both desperately wanted to impress, and become at the same time.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2347/5701416854_9321fdae66_o.jpg><br /><br />I know now, that raising a little girl is not as simple as waving gardening gloves and kitchen knives, and somehow yielding a well-rounded young woman from it. It's about looking down into your own flaws and failures, and trying to change them so your child doesn't see, and mimic those same acts. Wishing they won't be the worst parts of you. <br /><br />I see my flaws on the open, innocent face of Elodie. Hoping that she will be better, hoping she doesn't see through my daily struggle to do so. For the little girl that will one day grow up to become a better version of myself.<br /><br /><I><br />Happy Mother's Day.<br /></i><br /><br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2711/5701417030_1523a2f8a1_o.jpg><br /><br />To my Grandmother, who mothered with her love and natural instinct over everything else. Who rocked me to sleep in the same way she rocks Elodie, these days.<br /><br />To my <A href="http://aurajoon.blogspot.com/2010/05/most-important-woman-i-know.html">Mom, the most important woman I know.</a> Who held her own flaws like deep rooted secrets but was so open as a book that I read her, anyway. My inspiration and every desire to one day have babies of my own, and start over this whole messy process of life.<br /><br />To my sister. Who was the night to my day difference, both as little girls, then women, and now, both Mothers. Our stark contrast in personality teaches me moderation, and patience in our differences.<br /><br />To my Mother in Law. Who once reminded me that no matter how much I feel like I will let Elodie down and can always do better as her Mom, she will grow up one day and not carry the same hot coals of disappointment in tight-clenched fists. She will know I did my best. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2751/5700847791_934b7db2fe_o.jpg><br /><br />And to me, on my first Mother's Day. <br />Precious Elodie, I carried you in my heart my entire life, in my body for 9 months, and I will carry you through every fiber of my being for the rest of my life. You are my everything. <br /><br /></center>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-32405745277605883882011-04-29T10:03:00.007-05:002011-04-29T10:56:40.214-05:00Festival of the Arts- Our 8th (and first) visit.<center><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5026/5669350147_619fd36f95_o.jpg><br /><br />In 2004, on the last week of April, Michael and I had our very first date. He took me to the Festival of the Arts in Oklahoma City, and we picked a quiet spot in a shady patch of green grass to sit and talk for hours. Every Spring we go back to that same spot, with our wonderful food in hand, and spend time enjoying the beautiful weather, and remembering how many years have passed since our first time there, together. Both shy and 21 years old, trying not to say the wrong thing and hoping we didn't have food in our teeth.<br /><br />Last night we took Elodie, and it felt like the first time we were there all over again. Through her eyes, I am starting to see the world and the memories we share in a different light. Things that have started to feel routine and ordinary are becoming new and exciting, again. We are starting over with new life, a blank canvas...and showing her the beauty of life through our eyes.<br /><br />With these realizations, I am also starting to become aware that one day I will also have to teach Elodie about things that are not always easy. She will have to understand change, and how we must all go through it to move through life and keep working forward. <br />When we went to find our spot, it was gone. All of it. The grass, the hill, and even our tree. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5265/5669405079_9172d1a830_o.jpg><br /><br /><i>photo from April 2007</i><br /><br />Ripped out, and turned into something new for a city project. It was a place I didn't recognize, and for our 8th trip to the Oklahoma City Festival of Arts, it felt like our first time. I was a little disappointed that we never got to show Elodie our spot. The place where we fell in love every year until the first year we brought her to see the shining sun through the trees, herself. <br /><br />But life changes, whether we like it or not. And on a new hill, with new sod and new memories to be made, we found another spot. One that will hopefully not be ripped out anytime soon, to make way for skyscrapers and sidewalks :) <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5227/5669352609_81b274ec1f_o.jpg><br /><br />In our new spot we ate yummy Brazilian food, and candied cashews and pecans - still warm.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5028/5669922324_4d9b124e44_o.jpg><br /><br />Elodie slept, and cried, and ate. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5067/5669352035_f77ef35a04_o.jpg><br /><br />I watched the sunshine and shadows from the trees dancing across her tiny face. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5150/5669920360_435c51b64f_o.jpg><br /><br />And fell in love with this scruffy face, all over again.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5185/5669350353_fe17dbe02b_o.jpg><br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5025/5669349883_5eaa699c54_o.jpg><br /><br />And okay, maybe our new spot isn't so bad. I could probably get used to it.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5187/5669353211_c84788c0fb_o.jpg><br /><br />We walked around the gardens for awhile, looking at all the new changes. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5184/5669351775_e2788336fc_o.jpg><br /><br />Elodie snoozed through the music, walk by the water, and over bridges.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5025/5669919996_8df643b6d2_o.jpg><br /><br />She even snoozed through her Dad racing her around full speed while making car noises. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5187/5669352955_853cbffd12_o.jpg><br /><br />I tried to find the most plain things to eat, so she wouldn't be gassy and fussy all night. Thinking I was safe with a chicken and avocado wrap, it turned out to be fried (gassy baby), spicy (gassy baby), and covered in raw cabbage (super gassy baby). It was worth it. Even if she farted all night in her sleep and kept me up. <br /> <br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5070/5669351531_5d34425cc9_o.jpg><br /><br />When the sun went down and the crowd thinned, we went to look at all the photography, paintings, sculptures, and jewelery. We spent so long there that the artists were starting to shut down their booths, and our feet were starting to hurt. <br /><br />We drove home with one tired baby in the backseat - who didn't make a peep.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5306/5669921182_153c4053fa_o.jpg><br /><br />And so, life begins with Elodie. A first time for every dozen + times we have followed our same traditions. Life is starting over, through her new (and sleepy) eyes.<br /><br /><br /></center><br /><i><br />If you live in the Oklahoma City Metro, you can find information about the Festival of the Arts <a href="http://www.artscouncilokc.com/festival-of-the-arts">here, on their website.</a> It is going on for the rest of this weekend, so stop by and eat some yummy food from all over, look at the art, and find your own shady spot to make new memories.</i>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com61tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-14470397527288465682011-04-27T12:59:00.002-05:002011-04-27T13:09:04.487-05:00You are one month old, Elodie.<center><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5145/5661957044_58205699e1_o.jpg><br /><br />The night my water broke, I started to shake. I was frozen with fear, not knowing what to expect next. Everything I had been calm and preparing for went out the window in the second I realized that you - my daydream, my imaginary baby - would be here in just a few hours. <br /><br />When my midwife placed you on my chest, I remember the way you smelled. Even though I had never smelled you before, you still smelled familiar. Like an old tshirt or the way home smells when you first walk in after a long vacation. When you looked in my eyes, it was like I was looking through a mirror at myself. And in the same way I felt like I knew you....a set of eyes I had somehow looked into before, you knew me. Your body melted onto mine like complete relief. I have never felt more needed by something my entire life, and in that moment I realized we belonged to each other.<br /><br />Elodie, you are one month old. You have started looking into my eyes, instead of me just looking into yours. In the middle of the night, half asleep and in a haze - you look into my eyes and you begin to smile. Before this, there has been nothing that burned a fire inside my heart like the moment I realized that you recognized me. I love you, I love you, a thousand times I love you. Beautiful little girl, this feels like the first day that I am alive. To know that I have created you, and you understand it. <br /></center>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com71tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918692864889720064.post-47108231289190951432011-04-20T20:18:00.005-05:002011-04-20T21:07:18.802-05:00To-Don't :<center><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5226/5639332540_a44247e694_o.jpg><br /><br />Inside the working gears of my mind, there is a place that crafts together to-do lists miles long. <br />Goals, chores, grocery lists....all carefully comprised and organized. These parts of me thrive off of knowing I have achieved something I set out to do. And with every one thing that I cross off my list, there is a sense of accomplishment that washes over me. <br /><br />My mother did, and still does the same thing. Every week she makes her cleaning lists, her lunches and dinners for the week. Vacations were always started with her long, and perfectly contrived list of items we needed. Whoever was left home was left with an equally impressive list of things to be taken care of around the house, down to what times the animals ate, and how much.<br /><br />I need this game, and I play it every day.<br />Sometimes it feels like chains, bound tight around my throat. Only releasing if I feel that I have accomplished enough. And when I don't, and things are left undone, they weigh on my chest and closing breaths until I can hardly stand it.<br /><br />...<br /><br />Elodie is 3 weeks old. And in those 3 weeks I have only taken 2 naps. Both involuntary, and a product of falling asleep in the middle of what I was doing. Elodie is 3 weeks old, and I still struggle to let go of these stupid lists to just hold her for half of my day. In three weeks I have gotten a lot of things done. Laundry is done every day, the house is vacuumed and trash is taken out. And at the end of the night I miss her. I want to scoop her up and feel her skin on me, her tiny rising chest and sweet smell surrounding me.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5142/5638756309_552c56f490_o.jpg><br /><br />In the same dark holes of my mind where I make my lists and hold my disappointments in myself, there is a place that reasons and argues over spoiling her with all of the love and time I have to give. In these places I realize how critical I can be of myself. All this doubt and fear and worry pools and collects until it forms a hot coal of failure. Failure in knowing that no matter how hard I try to do this all right and perfect, things will always go wrong. No doubt because I have turned to my methods of analyzing everything to death - instead of just doing what feels right.<br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5107/5638756457_02ff06ec24_o.jpg><br /><br />Elodie is 3 weeks old. Each day she teaches me something about myself, a voice louder than one I have heard before. Her voice drowns the disappointment, it drowns the lists, and it drowns my doubt in myself. A tiny voice, sometimes it comes out only in a drawn-out, breathy, "haaaaa" that trails into a sweet yawn that melts my heart into an open sea. <br /><br /><br />I have 3 more weeks home with her. These will be the <b>only</b> <i>first</i> weeks. Ones that I will remember in 30 years, when she is having babies of her own. Ones that I will cry and wish to have back, when I am drowning in my to-do lists, chains bound tight around my neck. <br />If nothing changes, we will always stay the same. And sometimes that is the worst thing we can do for ourselves. <br /><br /><img src=http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5307/5639331986_d19df27f48_o.jpg><br /><br />Today, and tomorrow, and for the rest of my time as Elodie's Mother, a to-do list will never be more important than when she just needs me to lay with her, naked, warm, and vulnerable. I will learn to let go of my lists, and throw them to the bottom of a hole marked "To-Don't." <br /><br /><br /></center>Aurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04703730646756774047noreply@blogger.com89